The Guild
by TripWire- dono
Summary: 'They' used videogame soundtracks in their culinary art to create unique dishes based on their analysis and interpretations of the music. "Music is the language of the heart…It elicits such profound emotions from people…It makes you see beyond your limitations…even if you can't physically leave…You put your heart into your cooking, yes?" Erina thought the idea was dumb. Erina/OC
1. Main Theme

**Hey guy and girls :)**

 **I'm back with a brand new story for SnS. Reviewers showed the most interest for** _The Guild_ **out of all the other side stories summaries, and I'm so excited to write and explore a completely different side of food and drag Erina with me haha! So we have a new cast of OCs, I promise not to burden you with too many!**

 **IMPORTANT: SnS was first published in 2012 by _Weekly Shounen Jump._ I've decided that it will take place in 2013 to stay in line with when _most_ _of the chapters_ are published. Therefore the following games, gaming soundtrack, anything associated that I will be mentioning is anything released up until a few months in for 2013. Sorry guys, games and soundtracks released AFTER 2013 will not be mentioned because they wouldn't exist yet in my story. I've decided this because the 2013 will be _extremely_ important for the motif in the story.**

 **So here's the first opening chapter and I hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own SnS nor the video-game titles and soundtrack that will be mentioned**

* * *

 _Chapter 1 - Main Theme_

* * *

"Hisako, what's the first item on the agenda?".

The blooms of the courtyards were already out to herald spring time, but the edges of campus were more shaded. Just the way Nakiri Erina liked it. The _sakura_ trees only had a time-share of sunlight competing against the shadows of the school buildings. Erina wasn't concerned though, it would bloom just a little later than the others. Her feet carried her through a languid stroll amongst the late-coming growth, with no destination in mind as her trusted aide faithfully accompanied her a few steps behind. Her hair of streaming gold swayed with the breeze against her straight shoulders as she brushed her finger tips against her loose locks which were tickling her sensitive, fair skin. She could practically feel Hisako's blush from behind. She was such a dear. Traditions and breeding from the noble house of Nakiri demanded that she exhibited only elegance, grace, class and feminine strength in every iota of her movements from the flutter of her lashes to her gait. That way, all would bathe in her sunshine, agreeing to whatever she said.

That didn't work in the culinary world.

Years of harsh militaristic training in the heat of the most competitive kitchens in Japan had honed her discipline, strength and mind until she was the most formidable chef of her age. She needn't reflect on her cooking skills as it really spoke for itself. She made _Ojii-sama_ proud and she damn well would continue to do that, for the Nakiri name and for herself. Skill was one thing, but if a chef didn't possess 'talent' or 'a gift', then they could never stand out and be the extraordinary.

"The Research Societies' last excursion reports were due yesterday, so we'll need to evaluate them within the next five weeks before we can assign their budgets for this year", said Hisako.

Erina nodded. Her amethyst eyes skipped over the thick, beautifully manicured hedge which lined their stone pathway. They were right beside the grand administration building now, but they still had a fair distance before reaching the main courtyard. Erina estimated it'd be a further four-minute walk back to her office.

"Alright, I'll start on the first submissions, tonight. What else?".

"There is the _Rapport Building Training Camp_ next month, and then after is the _Autumn Elections Competitions_ ".

"Isshiki- _senpai_ and Eizan- _senpai_ are staffing the _Elections_ this year, aren't they", Erina whispered, knowing the answer already.

First thing was the Research Society reports. If she remembered correctly, only a handful of them applied to go abroad to further strengthen their skill in their specialised area. It was the usual suspects which were the Research Societies that had the most funding. For example, the Chocolate RS went to Lyon, the Chinese Cuisine RS went to Sichuan, the Spanish Cuisine RS went to Madrid, the Cutting-Edge RS went to Copenhagen, obviously, the French Cuisine RS went to Paris, the Italian Cuisine RS went to Rome, and the Middle Eastern Cuisine RS went to Constantinople just to name a few. However, the Research Societies with lower budgets had albeit a smaller chance to go abroad and it was highly competitive because only one application from a mediocre RS could pass. Usually twenty out of fifty of the remaining Research Societies had the guts to apply. They just needed to apply for the grant money and state their case in the toughest closed interview in school on why they should go, what they were expecting to learn and finally, how _Tootsuki_ Culinary Academy would benefit from it. All that was handled by Tsukasa- _senpai_ , she'd thought.

Erina mentally scoffed.

' _If I had my way, I would've done away with this whole silly grant application long ago. If the RS's weren't doing well, and therefore, didn't have enough money in the first place, then there was no point investing in them going abroad for further training'._

"I'm already familiar with the main RS's that went abroad, but which RS passed the grant application?", asked Erina, turning around to face Hisako.

Her aide licked her finger and flicked through the pages on her clipboard. Her sharp magenta eyes deftly scanned each surface, not missing a single piece of information inked on the papers. Erina crossed her arms under her bust and smirked. Whichever the RS was, she would be sure to skip them over. Never once in the history of _Tootsuki,_ did a low budget RS proved worthy to be given more money after successfully applying for the grant application for going abroad. They often struck out overseas! Erina surmised that this allowance to join the same standing as the other Elite Research Societies was more of a pittance from the Administration Board more than anything. Those RS's who took the bait were pathetic because in all honesty, what else were they going to achieve?

"Found it. They went through a name change last year… I think it's called The—",

" _Oh hey!"._

Erina's blood ran cold. That voice… Was that who she thought it was?! She'd recognise that infuriating voice anywhere.

"Y-Yukihira! How'd he find me?!". Erina spun around and hissed.

She narrowed her eyes into a deathly glare and scrutinised her surroundings. Just beyond the tall administration building was the peskiest cockroach she had the displeasure of coming across. _It_ was waving at her in all _its_ disgusting redheaded glory. Erina felt sick to the stomach. The way his golden eyes glittered towards her direction was tantamount to invoking revulsion as she could feel the utter embarrassment boil her insides. Her cheeks flushed in anger.

When she first clapped eyes on him, he wasn't anything and didn't even deserve to have a number label for the exam. Come on… he couldn't even afford a proper chef's uniform and showed up in a… shirt. He hardly looked prepared for the entrance exam. Painting the shop name on the back of a shirt was no better than pre-school art. He'd the gall to still challenge her after she'd sent all the other new school applicants with their tails tucked between their legs by only breathing her name. When that didn't deter him in the slightest, she made it abundantly clear who she was, how many levels she was above him, and that he wasn't worthy of studying at _Tootsuki_ so he could take the hint. But no, he just wouldn't quit. So, she ended up having to waste her precious time and give him one of their precious eggs to make a dish. She bet the egg was worth more than his shop. The food he'd made was 'technically'… 'good', but his condescending and goading smug grin had riled her up so badly as if he'd thought he knew better than her, and how she experienced his food was the sealing wax on her final decisions.

She very gladly failed him.

That was supposed to be the end of the story. She'd never see him again and just forget the redheaded cur… But her nightmare resurfaced like a bad case of indigestion and his arrogant smile waltz back into her breathing space again on that First Ceremonial Day. _Ojii-sama_ had let him in anyway! Why'd _Ojii-sama_ override her decision like that?! Especially after she'd assessed him! He was the one who'd let her be in charge of the entrance exams in the first place! Her beloved _Ojii-sama,_ The Demon Food King of Japan only gave her a teasing smile old grandparents were infamous for and he just said in his loud and deep voice, _'You'll see'_ before getting on with his business with nary a care for how distraught his granddaughter was. Here, the ingrate was now kicking up the fallen petals of the _sakura_ blossoms in his wake, making his way towards her and Hisako like an untrained puppy. Couldn't she have a day where she wasn't reminded of that stupid, dense, second-rate, poor-excuse of a chef?

"Damn it! He's coming this way. What am I going to do?".

"You go and hide Erina-sama! I'll stop him", said Hisako, determination set in her eyes.

Erina turned this-way-and-that, assessing where could be the best possible place to evade him. If she sprinted in the opposite direction, he'd only pursue her and she knew he could outrun her. She also knew that the redheaded headache was coming closer, and closer, like an inevitable migraine and was going to start some sort of inane and banal conversation to further deteriorate her brain cells. She saw nothing but trees, hedges and the sandstone wall.

"Where am I supposed to hide? There's nothing!", she seethed at Hisako.

"The bushes, Erina-sama! You've no choice". Hisako tucked her clipboard under her arms and pointed to the thickest bush near the hedge.

Erina gaped, appalled. "You can't be serious!".

"He's getting close, Erina-sama!"

" _Hey Miss Aide! Is that you?"_

"Fine!"

Erina swallowed and grudingly bit the bullet. She steeled her resolve and grabbed onto her skirt. As best as she could, she leapt over the bush.

"Ah—AHHH!"

The world turned sideways. Erina felt herself careening to the side and for a moment she saw her life flash before her eyes. Her wealthy, aristocratic and privileged life. In one second she could clearly see the trajectory she was aiming for, as she agreed that the bushes would have to do while Hisako dealt with Yukihira. In the next second, a shockingly strong tug on her left foot, like a rubber-band had pulled too tight, had jolted her body and pulled her off-course, just short of clearing the bush. Erina knew this was her end and she was going to plummet into the ticket and possible bruise her face. An unlady-like yelp escaped her lips and Erina flung her arms in front of her and braced for impact. Instead of meeting her maker against the sharp twigs, grass, leaves and dirt, she found herself sprawled on top of something warm, soft and firm with a muffled _'oof!'._

… That something began to move…

… AND IT GROANED.

 _"Phew, finally caught up to you. Hey Miss Aide—"._

Erina froze. The shifting thing beneath her also stilled and she temporarily put it out of her mind as she became hyper-aware of the ingratiating sound of Yukihira's disembodied voice, flitting above her. It set her teeth on edge. She stiffly turned her head in a to desperately catch a glimpse of his red-hair to check if he was distracted by Hiskao enough. Luckily, Hisako was smart and inconspicuously shifted her position as soon as he reached them so that Yukihira's back was facing her hiding spot.

" _It's Arato-san to you. Wh-What do you want, Yukihira-kun?"._

" _I thought I saw Nakiri with you, but looks like I was wrong. I wanna talk to her about something. You know where she is?"._

" _She's very busy now and have lots of important things to do. She can't waste any of her valuable time on you. If you think it's that important, just send an email to her school account",_ clipped Hisako.

" _My school email isn't ready yet. So, can you take a message for me?"._

He still sounded happy-go-lucky and Hisako's clear displeasure and obvious attempt to deflect him and send him on his way didn't reach his thick skull. What an imbecile. He kept prattling on until Hisako was exasperated.

" _Look, Yukihira-kun—"._

While the two students engaged in their mismatched conversation, Erina suddenly became aware of something else.

 _Music._

Then she became even more aware. She slowly let the reality of where she was and her immediate surroundings trickle back to her and she was left more than mortified by what she had gotten herself into. She jumped over, or more like collapsed, into a bush, but landed on something that was in no way, vegetation. The solid mass shifted under her again in a tentative manner. Something fell next to her with a soft thud and she realised it was a set of expensive-looking headphones. Music she couldn't identify was softly leaking out of it. It was instrumental, like meditation music which wafted on low volume, but enticing enough for her to tune her hearing to it. They looked new, glossy and shiny. She recognised the brand as a high-end one and it was completely black, save for a few silver trimmings to keep it looking futuristic. Headphones belonged on people… _Oh no…_ Her body remained paralysed, but her eyes still worked. It trailed from the headphones… to the black cord that snaked its way through the short grass… and then up… and then between her and the _thing_ trapped beneath her.

Her mouth went dry.

' _Oh… please no, please no, please no'._

She nervously looked up and she was met by the visage of a very uncomfortable and bemused face.

It was a person.

It was a person.

It was a person.

 **IT WAS A BOY.**

She wanted to scream, but her heart leapt into her throat, suffocating her and only a choked garble managed to creak out. Her brain ran a million miles a second, fuelled by utter humiliation, mortification and embarrassment until it short-wired and she couldn't think. Her jaw fell utterly slack. All she could see were the eyes gazing back at her, just awoken and not quite there from slumber. There was still the tell-tale hazy sheen in them as long stygian lashes fluttered a couple of times to be rid of the drowsy sleeping spell until its focused returned. That was when she felt her lungs snap from the intensity. Crystalline blue eyes peered at her from beneath stray raven locks. They were now completely unblinking and it derailed her, more than Yukihira did. She couldn't find the strength to look away. The stark contrast of them against his hair and alabaster skin was stead-fast as it held Erina's gaze for several long, drawn-out moments before a soft groan emitted from his thin lips. Her fingers reflexively clenched in her panicked state and fisted two handfuls of his school shirt. The body sprawled beneath hers tensed up and she could feel every contraction of the muscles under the shirt she hung onto. She became very warm, _very fast_ , especially in her cheeks. Slowly, she slid down his body a few centimetres, courtesy of gravity, and she found herself sensitive to the warm curvature of his torso and his narrow hips between her knees. She panicked again, fearing the soft crackling of the dropped foliage around them would alert Yukihira of her hiding spot. Erina realised the boy was trying wriggle her off to prop himself onto his arms behind him and she was weighing him down. He stopped and let his elbows sink into the grass with a quiet huff. His shirt-collar was skewed thanks to her and she caught more glimpses of his pale skin wrapped tightly over his over-exposed collar bone. Her face was on fire!

His eyes suddenly went frigid and it drowned out her internal laments, but those orbs still shone through the bedraggled curtains of his dark hair and his face went blank, except for the slight knitting of his dark, fine brows.

"Could you… get off me?"

Erina clamped her mouth shut and squeezed her legs together to stop him from rustling the leaves. She released her death grip and slapped her sweaty hands over his mouth. His next words were stifled and thanks to Yukihira's increasing volume, and Hisako's distraction, the redheaded block-head didn't suspect anything. The boy's eyes widened in confusion and stared at her. Erina was trembling and shaking all over. She couldn't believe she was doing this! She was in too deep now and it was impossible to get away without Yukihira discovering her and this… this… this… _boy_ among the bushes. Oh, the scandal! Her golden hair splayed across the boys chest and her face. She had to blow her strands from her face because it tickled her nose so badly.

 _'Come on, Hisako! Hurry up!'._

Her nose twitched and she sucked in a breath. She caught a noseful of the boy's scent and oddly enough, it did something to soothe and calm her rapidly firing nerves, but she couldn't understand why. He was wearing deodorant and it possessed a citrusy, lemon-like scent and something leafy and green. As her body rose and fell in tandem with the boy's own breathing, her breathing sychronised with his. She took in his scent again, as she waited impatiently for Yukihira to begone. This time it wasn't the same scent as the first, instead it was more of a musk, which she instinctively knew only males naturally possessed and it hid beneath his deodorant. She blushed heavily from this strange drawn feeling to his smell. His scent reminded her of a thunderstorm with a fruity tinge. She slightly moved her neck and brushed her cheeks against his warm body. He tensed up again and she cursed herself for making this awkward position more awkward than it needed to be. On the third intake of breath, she noted that combined with the grass, dirt and leaves they were surrounded by, his musk took on a forest-like scent with freshly cut wood but more exotic.

 _'Stop it! Stop think about things like that!'._

She wished Hisako would hurry up and kick Yukihira's butt back to the courtyard so that she could get out of this degrading and compromising position!

She made the mistake of looking up again and was once again caught in the boy's pressuring gaze. A stark knowing gleamed in his eyes. She prayed understanding dawned on him for her absurd predicament, that she _absolutely_ didn't want to be seen by the redheaded youth only a few steps away from her. His nostril flared with each intake and exhale of breath and his breath against the skin of her hand which sent shivers through her. They were so warm. His chest started to rise and dip higher as the exertion in his arms to hold them up was starting to take its toll.

But he didn't give them away.

Erina dipped her eyes ashamedly away again when his unblinking stare was too much for her. She ended up focusing on his collar bone which still peaked out of his slightly pulled shirt. It started to become red and flush as the blood beneath the pale skin was creeping up his neck. The tendons there were making miniscule flexes as the boy strained to keep from moving the bushes for her sake. An overwhelming gratitude brushed passed Erina's thoughts.

He finally blinked.

She could feel him gritting his teeth through her palms. His eyes darted from beneath his messy, raven fringe to also check up on Yukihira.

" _Okay, I'll send her an email. But If I see her first, I'll ask her anyway",_ said Yukihira.

" _Fine. Class is about to start, so you'd better be on your way",_ replied Hisako.

" _Alright then. Laters!"._

Erina imagined Yukihira's cheesy grin and lazy salute at Hisako. Erina wasn't stupid enough to get off immediately. She had to wait until the coast was clear. When the last few thumping steps of Yukihira's jogging feet died down in the distance, Erina flew off the boy and almost collided her back against a nearby tree. Her heart thumped like war drums in her chest.

"Damn, you were heavy…".

She spluttered and frantically wiped her hands on the pleats of her skirt.

"Erina-sama! Are you al— EH!? Who are you and what're you doing with Erina-sama?!".

Erina got up on all fours before shakily getting back up onto her unsteady feet. Her tremouring hands brushed away the dead foliage, twigs and bits of grass from her person. Her knees stung so much and we she looked down, was immediately revolted by the angry, red imprints of the grass on her skin. Hisako was in front of her, in her defensive stance and armed with her trusty clipboard. Erina tried to look over her rosette hair. The boy was still on the ground. She gently pushed Hisako to the side. Her aide was ready to say something, but Erina gave her a look and she was silenced. Hisako nodded her assent and stepped back, but her eyes remained trained onto the boy with the headphones.

He massaged his shoulders and flexed with them with a grimace. He retrieved the headphones on the ground and gave it a few strokes to get the grass off before fitting them around his neck. His fingers dipped into his pockets and pulled out a smartphone tapped, it a few times and Erina could see he was pausing his music.

"Is it too much for a guy to catch a nap?", he murmured.

Now hearing him properly for the first time, Erina almost balked at the ever so slight husk in his voice, probably from sleep. It was low. It did something to her ears that made her want to hear him speak again, just to re-affirm that his voice quality was really like that. Finally, he got up onto his feet and Erina could see his face properly too. He was a good half a head taller than she was. He straightened out his school uniform, but left his school shirt untucked. He wore the school beige vest similar to Alice, but his tie was missing. Erina was replaced by a different kind of nerves as she had to slightly crane her neck to look at him.

"What was _that_ all about?", he asked. He twisted his shoulders again, getting the last of the kinks out.

"That was… none of your concern…", replied Erina.

That was her go-to response. Every single time. No matter the situation, she needed to re-establish her authority and superior standing which was step one of damage control. Her haughty voice returned and she almost cringed at her scathing words. She knew she wouldn't be able to get very far in asserting control again since she was the one who'd blatantly landed herself into that compromising situation with a strange boy who'd a thing for naps in ridiculous places. However she'd be damned if she didn't try. Her cheeks flared up exponentially and she crossed her arms. She shuffled her feet away from him to show that she was dismissing this conversation, and that he should stop asking. From the corner of her eyes, she saw him quirk an eyebrow above his glacial blue eye before slight annoyance settled in. Then he yawned and stretched his arms. He looked the other way with a bored stare and turned around until his back faced her. His fingers grasped the two ends of his headphones before lifting them up to fit them snuggly over his ears.

"O…kay then".

Wait… he turned around… with his back to her…?

Was he dismissing her too…?

 _NOBODY DISMISSED NAKIRI ERINA UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES._

"Hey, wait a sec—".

"I need to get back to my clubroom", he interrupted her.

Erina and Hisako were both flabbergasted by his utter nonchalance. He fished out his smartphone again and turned his music back on, ensuring that he was a hundred percent going to ignore her. She clicked her tongue. She unfurled her arms and stomped through the dead leaves towards him. She swiftly cut his path before he took another step and stood right in front of the raven-haired boy with her arms akimbo. She stared him down with her infamous Nakiri glare.

"You will not speak of this to anyone. Understood?".

His eyes narrowed at her once again as he challenged her stare back with his own.

"I don't really care, but I won't say anything if you won't".

"What do you mean _'if I won't'_? of course I won't! Besides, it's not like we did _anything_ of consequence".

"I missed the rest of the track because of you. How's _that_ for consequence". He pointed to his headphones with piercing narrow eyes.

Erina snarled at him. She was fighting a losing battle and like a tiger backed into a corner, all she could do was find every the excuse in the world and hurl it at him, hoping one of them would knock him down a few pegs.

"W-Well, you shouldn't be sleeping there in the first place! Who sleeps in the bushes like a creep?!".

"I always take a nap here and I don't like it when people invite themselves", he sidestepped her and brushed past.

Both Erina's embarrassment and ire rose. She choked on her saliva from the acrimony that completely welled up and blocked any words from leaving her mouth _Invite?! HERSELF?!_ This ingrate must be purposely twisting the events for his on sick amusement or he was the densest of the human species. Even denser than the blunder-wonder that was Yukihira Souma! She could see Hisako shaking her head, urging her mistress to just let it go and just drop the conversation, but Erina couldn't. She hated losing an argument and right now, no matter how ridiculous she knew deep down it was getting, she just. Couldn't. Let. Him. Walk. Over. Her.

"Why can't you just sleep in your clubroom? At least then you would be out of everybody else's way!".

' _Take that!'_

Hisako slapped her hand over her face.

He kept walking, with his hands in his pockets and headphone firmly in place, but there was a distinct _jauntiness_ to his gait which was influenced by whatever music he was listening to from his dratted headphones. Then he was gone.

" _Kami-sama…_ I knew he looked vaguely familiar. I think I know who he is now", said Hisako, tapping her finger against her chin.

Erina turned around and looked to her aide, raising a brow for more information. "And?"

"That's Mitsunaga Yozora. He's from the RS with the name change".

"And what RS is that?".

"They specialise in interpreting video-game music, and recreating them into food".

"What kind of stupid RS is that!".

That concept was laughable! It was completely asanine!

"Actually, Erina-sama… they did very well overseas, along with the main Research Societies. The passed the grant application last year with flying colours. They traveled all the way to a well-known annual comic convention in San Diego, America to set up a pop-up video game gourmet _café_ and food truck, and help promote the events, and of course sharpen their skill in _…"._

Her aide struggled to find the words.

 _"_ _…_ Whatever it is to do with video-game music and cooking _…_ I'm not certain. They were very well received at the comic convention, which brought more recognition to _Tootsuki_ from what was otherwise a 'niche market' of video-gamers and pop culture fans from the Western culture. The year before that, they were invited to the Tokyo Game Show to showcase video-game music inspired gourmet food for the fans of the highly anticipated and newly released titles and to help promote. They also gained a large number of followings online because of that. They seem to utilise social media well enough to fuel their endevours _…_ ", said Hisako.

They were not accolades to be proud of whatsoever, in Erina's opinion.

"What's this joke of an RS called now, Hisako?".

" **The Guild"**.

.

.

* * *

.

.

He was grateful for the uneventful week. Unlike last week, he had full peaceful naps.

"She was so hot! L-Like, I wish she would look at me just once…".

"Keep dreaming. Girls don't give the time of day to _otaku_ guys like you, you know".

"What about you? Aren't you an _otaku_ like _me?_ And you've got girls giving you _bentou!"_.

"It helps that I also work out and you on the other hand just strut around like the scrawny little chicken you are".

"Hey! It's called being ' _slim'!"._

Yozora didn't need to open his eyes to know what sort of expressions his friends were pulling. He was very tempted to turn up the volume on his headphones and drown out their bickering with the sweet medley of _Elder Scrolls_ exploration music, but he knew the President of _The Guild_ , affectionately known as, drill-sergeant-posh-boy- _senpai_ would scold him again. Hmm… wasn't he supposed to be here too? The dark-haired teen wondered what was holding his President up. His eyelids were already fighting to stay closed as slumber inevitably slipped away, being overpowered by awareness. The high-pitched voice of his best friend started to scale upwards at his _senpai's_ insinuation that his virility was questionable and it brought a quiet smile to his face.

' _I'll never reach the end of the song now, thanks to those loud-mouths'._

Yozora groggily lifted his head and cracked open his lids with a rough groan. His throat felt a bit tight and dry but a few weak throat-clears did the trick. The brightness of the clubroom danced in his eyes and made it stung a bit, but after a few blinks it dissipated into a clear picture of their small set of eight cooking stations, looking spotlessly clean. The _crescendo_ of the string quartet gently flowing through his eardrum made his waking easier. He yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes one last time and he was met close-encouter with the beaming face of his best friend…

Ginsekai Hayato.

"Rise and shine, buddy-bud-bud!".

He caught a face-full of flaxen blonde hair as Hayato-kun pressed his youthful face closer to him in the hopes of rousing him further awake. It worked and Yozara bobbed his head in acknowledgement and yawned again… one couldn't yawn too many times. Hayato-kun dragged over his stool with a screech and parked it right in front of the kitchen bench, opposite to Yozora. He slapped both his hands on the table, effectively making Yozora wince from the suddenness. Hayato-kun grinned cheekily at his friend's expense and chuckled when Yozora grimaced. He pulled his headphones from over his ears and let it rest against his neck, but he kept the music playing, effectively trapping it as soft background music for now. The soft instrumental melted away to a barely-there vibration against his neck. There were very few people he'd admit it to, but he quite liked waking up to his best friend's cheerful smile and cackling laughter. It was kind of refreshing from having his blankets ripped away from him and being defenseless to the chilly morning with nothing but his pyjama bottoms and his sleeping cap to protect him. He quirked a soft smile at the blonde joker who was smiling back with faded blue eyes and bouncing excitedly up and down on the stool like a kid waiting to be served his favourite dish.

"Settle something for us, Yo-kun. Tsurugi _-senpai_ reckons girls don't go for _otakus_ like us. That's not true, right?".

"You're the _otaku._ I'm not", Yozora deadpanned.

"… why must you always feel the need to hurt me in this way…".

Yozora smirked and lazily reached over to ruffle Hayato-kun's already fashionably unruly blond hair. The gelled strands skewed every which way like a bird's nest that dropped out of the branches, causing the boy to yelp and slap his hand away. He desperately tried to finger-comb his golden strands back into their original place, but to no avail and it filled Yozora with a sadistic glee to watch his best friend fruitlessly struggle to retaining his 'punk' image as he wiped the hair gel sticking to his hands onto his trousers. There was honestly nothing funnier that watching Hayato-kun panic over the smallest thing and blessed be, it was almost all the time. His reactions were either zero to a hundred, which made gaming with Hayato-kun not only epic and full of laughs, but also something to look forward to every time. Hayato-kun shot him an unimpressed glare and wrinkled his nose at him, which made Yozora smirk even further.

"There we have it, squirt. You're the only dweeb here".

"You guys are dicks".

Yozora's keen eyes darted towards the direction of the low and guttural voice of the most beastly student he'd ever known.

Yuujou Tsurugi.

The hulking figure of his _senpai_ sat in a normal school chair, which he had stolen from the next clubroom over. He sat on it backwards with his huge, muscular arms folded on top of the back rest. It groaned under the weight. He gave a wolfish grin to Hayato-kun with a scalding triumph in his dark amber dancing in his eyes. He was wearing only the school undershirt and his school shirt was nowhere to be seen, meaning he was working out earlier. Yozora wondered if he was doing dead-lifts with the cast-iron wok sets this afternoon. He sniffed the air a few times and concluded yes, as the lingering scent of Tsurugi- _senpai's_ deodorant still hung in the air, only it already faded a bit. The tall _senpai_ raked his hand through his long scraggly hair which was haphazardly pulled back into a low pony-tail. A few locks escaped their bindings and framed his chiseled face, and his biggest feature, his square jaw which was already sporting a bit of stubble. Yozora observed as the bulging muscles in his shoulders rippled back and forth from stretching in the air. Then Yozora turned to Hayato-kun with a tired sigh as his friend growled back at the _senpai_ like a corgi trying to pick a fight with a massive German Shepard.

"Hey, where's Kasai- _senpai_?", asked Yozora.

It was their President who told them to meet up, and he'd yet to make an appearance. He started to worry. Yozora realised that it was starting to get late in the afternoon. Woah, did he nap for _that_ long? He could've sworn it was just early afternoon five-minutes ago! He remembered walking with Hayato-kun straight from Chef Chapelle's class to the clubroom as per their club President's instructions. He remembered looking outside and admiring the clouds floating by whilst appreciating the major key change in the powerful brass of _The Legend of Zelda Theme Twenty-Fifth Anniversary Orchestral Arrangement._ Hayato-kun was excitedly jibber-jabbering about their Research Society's latest blog post and how many comments they racked up in a week. He remembered reaching the clubroom and already finding _Tsurugi-senpai_ lounging on one of the stolen chairs, with his phone volume cranked up to the max blaring one of the more vocal battle themes from _Devil May Cry 4 Original Soundtrack._

"Don't know. But if Kasai- _senpai_ isn't here in the next five minutes, I'm jetting. I've got an Instagram edit for the blog post and a _Halo_ song to break down and analyse".

"You go anywhere and I'll spam your Instagram with dick-pics", Tsurugi-san growled back.

"Oh c'mon. Just text me and I'll come back!".

"I'm telling you now. You won't find a _half-cadence_ or a _perfect fifth_ in that song choice, just move onto something else. Oh yeah, and that build-and-drop will drive you insane".

"W-What? How do _you_ know? It was my turn to do _Halo_ this month! That's cheating!".

Hayato-kun sprang up and braced his arms on the kitchen bench. He scowled down at Yozora who opted to roll his head against the soft and comfortable folds of his jackets and dangle his arms under the bench. He turned his head slightly to stare at his friend's pathetically menacing face. He taunted him with a _'What're you gonna do about it?'_ look. Seriously, what did he think he would achieve with puffing his cheeks out and baring his teeth at the same time? He looked like a toddler who was about to throw a weak tantrum and achieve nothing, even with an inexperienced baby-sitter. His light blue eyes bubbled with indignation which was doing him no favours to try to be threatening in any way.

A few seconds later, Hayato-kun scoffed and straightened himself up. He folded his arms over his chest and looked away with a light dusting of pink on his nose as he darted his eyes towards the fading afternoon out the windows.

"Your stare is as soul-sucking as always. Don't you ever blink?", he grumbled.

"Nope".

Since Tsurugi-senpai wasn't going to offer any explanation as to why their President was uncharacteristically late, Yozora decided to reflect on the day. He fitted his headphones back over his ears and let the next track, another exploration one, wash over him into a wistful calm. He missed napping under the trees. Hayato-kun had already wondered back over to his original seat and pulled out his phone, no doubt editing the newest post on their Research Society's blog page. Yozora brushed his dark fringe from his eyes as he tried to remember what lead him to this point in the late afternoon while his lids started to dip.

He remembered Tsurugi- _senpa_ i saying that the President of _The Guild_ had an important announcement.

He remembered setting his bag down and pulling up the closest stool at the kitchen bench.

He remembered leaving his headphones on.

He remembered folding his school jacket on the kitchen bench and resting his arms on it.

He remembered he needed to blink because something caught onto his lashes

…and then…

Opening them to this very moment.

Hmm… he had completed conked out again…

"You just realised you took an obscenely long nap?", rumbled Tsurugi- _senpai._

"Yeah, I feel so tired today" he murmured back, ignoring his _senpai's_ wolfish grin at his sleeping habit.

"Oh, was another Nakiri giving you some much needed trouble?".

Irk.

Hayato stuffed his phone away and leapt off his seat and scooted around the other-side. Wasn't he just full of energy today, how envious. He none-too-gently hooked his arms around his neck and pulled him towards his chest, ready for a noogie. But Yozora knew him too well and quickly twisted so that he locked Hayato's arm in a bend. Triumphant aughter bubbled from his lips as his friend flailed about and begged for mercy at the top of his lungs.

"OW OW OW OW! Okay! I tap out!".

Yozora hummed a winner's fanfare and released his friend and puffed out his chest with victory. His best-friend simpered and nursed his arm with a quiet whimper. Awww poor puppy. Yozora knew it had been a bad idea to tell his friends about what happened last week. But luck wasn't on his side because Hayato-kun had some sort of radar to detect if a girl had been within one-metre of any of _The Guild_ club members. He'd hounded him, interrogated him with no reprieve as to why he was covered in leaves and smelt like a girl. There really wasn't a decent explanation for it that would paint him in the best light, and Hayato-kun knew that. There was no escaping the flaxen blonde once he had sunk his tiny puppy teeth into a succulent bone. Yozora had given in and told him what happened.

"No, that was just the _one time._ I doubt I'll run into her again".

"Never say die~".

"Go die".

" _This_ is why you have no friends".

"But you're my friend".

"Out of pity".

"Now who's being hurtful…".

To be suddenly ambushed by somebody and ruining a perfectly good dream-filled nap was frustrating and annoying to say the least. Even more so when that someone wouldn't remove themselves from him after unceremoniously winding him. His arms were still kind of sore, but at least his stomach wasn't bruised anymore. Perhaps he needed to work out like Tsurugi- _senpai_. If it'd been a guy, he wouldn't have had any qualms knocking him out with a well-aimed knee to the teeth, but it had been a _girl_ and he had stopped in his tracks, not knowing what to do. It hadn't been just any girl. It had been _the_ Nakiri Erina. The grand-daughter of the illustrious Director of their school and the Demon Food king of Japan. Heiress to the most prestigious clan in the gourmet food world! The youngest Elite Council member in the history of the school, the most formidable and toughest chef with the God's Tongue ability.

She was infamous.

She was biblical.

She was legendary.

She was on top of him.

He was paralysed as soon as he laid eyes on her! First thing he'd thought was that she was going bite his head off for sleeping during class-hours and then issue him a million-year detention slip! But the way she was trembling and the absolute terror in her deep violet eyes had told a different story. She hadn't seemed to be aware of that fact that she practically collapsed through a bush and onto him in such an undignified manner for somebody of her station, but rather she was fixated on something else.

Her pre-occupation gave him the opportunity to properly look at her as he'd never seen her up close before. He couldn't stop looking, even with the track playing from his headphone which had initially put a sleeping spell on him. Long golden hair spilled onto his chest as she gripped his shirt. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy colour and her small lips were pinched together in a silent tantrum. Her heart-shaped face had morphed into a fierce expression directed towards an obnoxiously nasal and loud voice from above them, and Yozora had realised that she was escaping someone and made an unplanned escape through the bush. When she'd realised she was sprawled against a human body, namely him, his breath was caught by the shining depths of those violet eyes. They widened in surprised and that small mouth formed an 'O' shape in shock. In that moment, she had shed her shield, her glamour and her aristocratic front. It'd made his heart skip several beats. He had expected her to scream at the top of her lungs and burst his eardrums, but instead she'd snapped her mouth shut and flattened against him. That was when Yozora had had enough and was about to remove himself from the bizarre situation Nakiri Erina landed herself in because he so didn't want to be part of the aftermath and if he'd been late for his clubroom meeting, the President would've strung him up in the freezer by his toes.

However, as soon as he'd moved, the Nakiri Princess tightened her thighs together and shot him an acrimonious glare. His body immediately reacted and not just because her weight was starting to bare down on him, but well…

There was a girl…

… lying on top of him.

… his body said _''kay-thanks-bye'_ to his brain.

He was old enough to know exactly what was going to happen if he had allowed her to stay on top of him any longer, and he wasn't up for embarrassing the both of them. So, he'd been about to tell her to get off if him, but the painful smack of a sweaty palm against his mouth destroyed any hope for him to escape this unlucky situation with both their dignities intact. She'd squared him with another strong glower and her face had been almost puce by that time. Yozora's eyelids had been practically glued to his eye sockets and he continued to drink in the visage of a panting, trembling girl, still tightening her plump thighs against his hips draped over chest on the ground, surrounded by dead leaves. Yozora was aware of the negative effects his stare had upon people and so Nakiri Erina had predictably tucked her head away, escaping his sharp blue eyes, and her nose had nestled against his shirt, tickling his side and making him tense up further. Her hand had still been glued against his mouth and the other gripped his shirt even tighter, making him more uncomfortable. He tried to get up, but she stopped him again, much to his frustration. He had no choice but to look up and see if her almost-assailant was close to leaving.

 _Kami-sama_ he was so close to _rising_ to the occasion…

"Oops! I can hear Kasai- _senpa_ i coming".

Yozora shot his eyelids open and darted his gaze towards the door and his head briefly swam. Sure enough, it slid open with a sharp snap and then fluidly closed behind the figure with a soft tap. All eyes were on the tall and slender boy who was carrying a stack of documents in his arms. His uniform was practically shining its own light. Yozora was mystified by how his _senpai's_ uniforms could stay so immaculate and pristine throughout the day. He and Hayato-kun always ended up with their shirts untucked, shirts unbuttoned, ties pulled loose and collars upturned by the end of the day. The two teens never knew why, but just accepted it as fact and more than once were pulled up on that by their lecturers.

"My apologies for the tardiness gentlemen, my meeting with Isshiki-kun had run overtime".

The President of The Guild was the only person he knew who could make a _Kansai_ accent sound _posh_.

Ishikagaku Kasai.

Kasai- _senpai_ settled at the front of the clubroom and cleared his throat to get everyone's already undivided attention. He lifted a finger and pushed his spectacles up his nose a bit further, the light from outside caught in the glass and briefly flashed in Yozora's eyes. His steely, sea-foam green eyes regarded everyone in the room cooly. His thin, wide lips were pressed together in all seriousness. He straightened himself and pulled on his lapels slightly to straightened his already god-damn perfect uniform.

"I've gathered you all here to discuss the future of _The Guild_ ".

Yozora quirked a curious brow.

"As you know, Tsurugi-san and I are in our final year. _The Guild_ had never had high numbers to begin with and we have a reputation a revolving door on our members, but alas, our Research Society has survived upon our passion for food and immersive music, and have proved over time to be valuable in the gourmet food community".

"And…?", asked Hayato-kun.

"I've decided to step down as President of _The Guild_ —".

"WHAT?! NO!".

Hayato-kun jumped up and gripped his blonde hair and ruthlessly pulled at it. Yozora almost slipped off his stool from the sheer suddenness and had to regain his balance by hauling him back onto the kitchen bench. Step down? What the heck?! His brain ran a million miles an hour filled with a billion more questions, but he short-circuited and could only gape like a choking fish. Kasai- _senpai_ didn't bat a perfect eyelash and his dark-blonde hair remained swept up at his hairline and not a single strand was out of place. His _senpai_ had more than likely predicted this childish outburst and Yozora could see the imperceptible twitched in his jaw. Kasai- _senpai_ never had long patience for interruptions, but Yozora deemed this announcement monumental enough to warrant a violent reaction. The dark-haired teen narrowed his eyes at his calm and collected, _senpai,_ patiently waiting for an explanation.

"Yes Hayato-kun, I will no longer be The President".

"But—".

"Sit down, squirt, and let the man speak", Tsurugi- _senpai_ rumbled from the corner.

Hayato-kun immediately dropped back down with a squeak. The lack of notable reaction from the larger student told Yozora that Tsurugi- _senpai_ had been in on this piece of information since the beginning. Those two third-years had probably discussed this for some time.

"Thank you, Tsurugi-kun. As I was saying", he squared Hayato-kun with a chastising glance, "we've decided that it was time to hand over the reigns to younger blood. I've been President for more than two years now and there is no better time than the present for a change in leadership. Not to worry, the next President will be guided by myself and when I graduate, they will be more than fully equipped and knowledgeable in managing _The Guild"_.

Yozora didn't know how to feel about this. When he first entered the elusive and unpopular club, Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ were the only members and they were called _'The Gamer's Cuisine RS'_. Kasai- _senpai_ was already the President and Tsurugi- _senpai_ was… he had guessed the treasurer or something? But it turned out _The Guild's_ budget was so small there was no need for a treasurer. It was during his middle school years when he and Hayato-kun were eligible to join a Research Society. It wasn't compulsory, but everyone knew that to further one's skill, they needed to join a club. That sense of belonging was dwindling from the lack of friends, and the added insult of being labelled an _otaku_ just because he happened to really like video-game music and knew every single title produced by the games company SQUARE ENIX.

He thought the unorthodox Research Society was cool as it combined his passion for music, video-games and food! So he had dragged his best friend Hayato-kun with him to sign up and hadn't regretted or looked back since. They gained two new wonderful friends and wise mentors. His initial impression of Kasai- _senpai_ was that of an uppity, stiff upper lip noble child. His eloquent and high-brow manner of speech was evident of that, however the underlying passion for video-games and music spoke volumes of the inner _otaku_ and classical music expertise in Kasai- _senpai_. Music had the power to break boundaries. Tsurugi- _senpai_ came across as being a beefed up gym-junkie, who was obsessed with crossfit, but it turned out he had a great love for creating delicate desserts to the soft tones of exploration music, and sorrowful melodies of games with sad backstories. Under Kasai- _senpai's_ and Tsurugi- _senpai's_ tutelage, Yozora and Hayato-kun learned to combine music and food in the most epic and wondrous ways! _The Guild's_ goal was to immerse oneself, re-define, interpret and extract the wonder and emotions from video-game music and re-create it into a fine dish, which represented the song and its story.

Just like movies, plays, books, music, and video games, _food was another medium for story telling._

 _The Guild_ aimed to scale a zenith that no other traditional gourmet food expert or chef had ever dreamed of.

Break boundaries.

Be inclusive.

Evolve with societal changes.

Share their passion for music and food, loud and proud.

 _Tell a story._

Yozora had known this was the Research Society for him and Hayato-kun. He and Hayato-kun were an ignorable anomaly in _Tootsuki._ It was only fitting they joined an ignorable and anomalous Research Society too.

"So… what's going to happen now?", whispered Hayato-kun. His voice trembled.

Kasai- _senpai_ hummed low in his throat and pulled out a set of stapled documents from his folder. He looked more like a board-member than a chef sometimes.

"The instructions are simple. As first year students, I am throwing the both of you into the ring for _PvP_ and the _reward_ will be the seat as President of _The Guild_. Yozora-kun and Hayato-kun, you two will battle it out".

Yozora bolted upright. _"P-Player versus Player?",_ he echoed back.

Others called it a cook-off or a _shokugeki,_ if the conditions were right, but _The Guild_ called it _'Player versus Player'_ or _'PvP'._

His mouth went dry and his headphones slipped over his ears and landed around his neck. He turned to look at his best friend and was greeted with an equally surprised look from him. They both stared each other and before he knew it, both their lips curled up into ferocious and hungry grins. A _PvP_ to be the President of _The Guild_?! Oh hell yes! His blood bubbled like a cauldron of stew and the building excitement for a fierce fight against his friend filled with a gleeful adventure just like the times he went against _boss monsters_. He had always dreamed of one day running _The Guild_. He could already hear the impending battle theme of this golden opportunity ricocheting through his brain. His mind was constantly filled with music and this time, it erupted into _'One Winged Angel'_ as he stared down Hayato-kun and his maniacal grin with his own infamous unholy un-blinking stare.

"Whaddaya say, Hayato-kun?".

"I say, you're gonna wish you had theKael'thas _bot_ with you".

 _'Oh, so that's how he was gonna play?'._

He and Hayato-kun participated in _PvPs_ with each other as often as they could and it wasn't anything over-complicated. They also had other club activities they liked to call _quests._ It was anything cooking and music related, which nobody complained about. The two boys used to try to scrounge for them from Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai,_ but ever since they launched their RS blog, they were snapping up _quests_ with varying difficulties from all sorts of people all over the city who needed their talents and were _rewarded_ with different things. Sometimes it was money, other times they were products and produce, discounts and special services. _Rewards_ were usually sweet, so their club President and his right hand man never minded as long as it didn't affect anyone's school work too much.

The last _quest_ the two boys participated in was when Kasai- _senpai_ notified them of the _quest notification_ from a small independent up-and-coming games store via their blog. The proprietor needed help to promote the business, and showcase the release of the new _Halo 4_ game. Of course, Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ were busy with school and so had left the _quest_ up to the two _kouhai_ to complete. They had set up a pop-food food stall, with menus filled with _Halo 4_ themed creations. They had been studying the Youtube release of the music for a few sleepless nights, and experimented in the kitchen for the next few sleepless nights until they were satisfied their dishes sang the soul of the excitement, intensity, camaraderie, adventure and thrill of the _Halo 4_ game soundtrack. Their reward was cash and a brand new _PlayStation 3 Super Slim model_ , and a partnership with the games store, which was more than enough motivation for the two of them. Damn, it had been a fine day! The food were gone in only a matter of hours and had enough time after cleaning up to participate in the mini _Halo 4_ Tournament hosted by the games store. They had come third and cried as soon as they'd gotten home. At least they gained more than enough funds, to pre-order newer games online much to the boy's pleasure. Yozora and Hayato-kun spent months studying every single soundtrack as they played through the new games and spent the next few months cooking, and cooking, and cooking until their arms almost dislocated.

Each teen designed a unique dish to represent their own interpretation of _each_ song and _each_ had compiled their own menu. That reminded Yozora that he needed to buy another book for his recipes. _Elder Scroll_ took up three volumes.

"You boys get dressed and I'll prepare the song I've selected for the _PvP",_ said Kasai _-senpai._

Yozora ripped the headphones off his neck. He grabbed his bag and headed towards the change room with Hayato-kun in tow. They changed into their chef's uniform in silence, but the tension of their competitive nature was deafening and only stoked their fires further. Yozora ran through every single analytical classical and contemporary music technique he had. He was sure Hayato-kun was doing the same thing. He finally finished dressing and he tightened the azure neckerchief around his collar. He watched Hayato-kun as he secured his crimson chef's uniform and black neckerchief also. They both gave each other one last look and bumped forearms together. Yozora still couldn't wipe the smile off his own face and Hayato-kun's grin only got wider.

"Ready?", asked Yozora, with a smirk.

"You bet", replied Hayato-kun with a sure nod and glimmering sky-blue eyes.

They both exited the change room to see that Tsurugi- _senpai_ had already placed his smartphone onto the sound system dock. Yozora couldn't see the art-cover of the song, so he couldn't guess what it was. He gulped and a tinge of nerves hit his system but he shook it away. He had to remain focused. Behind Kasai- _senpai_ were three trolleys filled to the brim with fresh ingredients. Fruits and vegetables, a collection of meats, fish, dairy products and condiments. He must have hidden it in the small club storeroom.

"Take your place", ordered Kasai- _senpai._

Yozora immediately stepped up to his own kitchen station and Hayato-kun was in the next station over. He pulled his knife case from underneath and placed it on top and flipped open the top. The mirror-like shine of his cooking blades yearned for a good fight and in his mind, he coaxed them to remain calm and that soon, he would take them out to play.

"Both of you wouldn't have heard of this song before. It comes from a game that is currently still in development _"._

 _"_ What? It hasn't come out yet?", gasped Hayato-kun.

"Correct", Kasai-senpai affirmed. "It's in the second-last stage of development and won't be released until another three or four years depending".

"And!", Tsurugi- _senpai_ stood up to throw in his piece. "Kasai and I already know which game it is".

 _"Oh, that's not fair_ … _",_ Hayato-kun huffed.

"H-How did you get your hands on the unreleased track, Kasai _-senpai?",_ Yozora was utterly intrigued.

"Through our usual connections", he smirked. "Now, I will loop the track for two and half hours. Just listen to the first loop and then you may begin cooking. I won't tell you the name of the track until the end _"._

Fine by him. Approximately two and a half hours, huh? This meant he had to go all out. As Yozora narrowed his eyes into a penetrating stare and clenched the handle of his chef's knife, Tsurugi- _senpai_ pressed 'play'. He was instantly hit by a well-mastered strains of powerful string and piano in pounding beats from the high-quality speakers. The action-packed introduction seized his attention and wouldn't let up. He shut his eyes and was immediately sucked into the hypnotic strain of intensity, anxiety and desperate instrumentals of what could only be a battle theme. The layered violins were forceful and the drums thumped along like the clash of swords on the battlefield before it segued into a choppy _ostinato_ as if scrambling up and down slopes driven by pure adrenaline. It finally gave way to the heart-pumping percussions, making his blood sing and hum to get ready for the _PvP_ against his best friend.

 _'Here comes the build'._

He succumbed to the song as Yozora's mindscape wiped the darkness from his closed lids and he found himself in a grassy field with rocky outcrops. The countryside stretched before him like a great quilt of golden, brown and green squares held together by the thick green stitching of the hedgerows. It rose and fell like giant waves on a gentle ocean and was dotted with animals. Occasionally there was a wood that separated the fields, or a farmhouse or barn.

 _That President seat was_ _ **his**_.

* * *

 **And there we have it! My new crew of OCs!**

 **Mitsunaga Yozora**  
 **Ginsekai Hayato**  
 **Ishikagaku Kasai (upperclassman)**  
 **Yuujou Tsurugi (upperclassman)  
**

 **Not a particularly flattering first meeting for Erina. Well done Yukihira. Thanks for driving her into the bush.** **The first years of the Crowning Jewels of Tootuski will have a quite a different ride from the _canon_. I wanted to have a go at subverting the manga with the new OC members of _The Guild_. I hope _The Guild_ will be a game-changer to the SnS canon! (PUN INTENDED).**

 **NOTE: In case readers are wondering about why the periods are written _outside_ the quotation marks in my story's dialogue, they** **may look like punctuation errors, but I assure you they are not. T** **his is how British and Australian punctuation works. (I'm Aussie). I believe, in America, periods are written _inside_ the quotation marks, so my story might look strange to American readers. There will be spelling differences between some words too like colour/color, mum/mom, centre/center. The Aussie in me still favour the 'u' and the '-re' and will for a long time.**

 **Please let me know what you think! I hope to see you again!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	2. Veiled in Black

_Chapter 2 - Veiled in Black_

* * *

"Man, all the practice kitchens are taken up. I wonder if any RS's won't mind sparing a station for me".

There was no-one around so it was safe to talk to himself. Souma strolled along the empty hallway with one hand wedged in his pocket and the other dangled his knife-case by his fingers. His footsteps echoed off the linoleum flooring as he whistled a jaunty tune _Oyaji_ had taught him ages ago. The last rays of the late afternoon sun fell slanting through the corridor's windows. It casted a checkerboard of brilliant honey sunlight onto the white floor. His first two weeks of school weren't too bad. He had a run in with a few class-mates this morning who thought he was good enough to challenge to a _shokugeki,_ which was pretty boss.

 _Shokugeki…_

Now, _they_ were super-cool. It was like cooking-gambling and he thought it was fantastic! It wasn't like anyone put money on the line, so he'd rather thought it was okay. Though he wondered if anyone bet with _actual_ money… He digressed. He had cooking battles with _Oyaji_ a million times back at the diner, but they had never put stakes on their competitions like the way the students here did. It wouldn't be a great idea for a father to encourage their kids to make bets in any way, shape or form, he supposed… But! It was good to spice things up a bit, in his opinion. It made one scrutinize the worth of their skill and tested their spirit and courage. After all, one had to prepare to lose something precious as much as expect to win. Most important of all, it measured where the student was in the pecking order. Hot stuff! Souma liked people who'd the balls to put their metaphorical life on the line.

His ears pricked up and his step faltered.

"Is that… music?".

Yep, definitely music.

Oh! Was someone throwing a major-rager?! He could make out a bunch of things, more violin and something synthetic but he wasn't sure. It sounded fast-paced and made his head bob in tandem. Ah, he liked music that made the body move. A grin split his face and he felt the end of this day was getting heaps better. If an RS clubroom down here was blasting music around this time, then they must be fun to hang out and party with. The red-head straightened his back and picked up the pace, eager to make it to the last clubroom in the corridor.

If there were students here who were rocking to some intense music, then he was going to make a lot of friends and frenemies here which would be ideal. At first, he thought this place was a complete joke with all the opulence, wealth, stuck-up dickwads and dickwadettes, who were piggy backing on Mummy and Daddy's names in the family restaurant business, but some were actually decent chefs who knew their way around the kitchen. Like Nikumi for example! She was a funny girl, but kind of too intense at times… and confusing. He was worried she'd catch a nasty cold one day. He felt the bubbling giddiness chew his insides as he couldn't wait to find out what kind of people he was going to meet as the music got louder and louder. He hoped whoever was in that cool RS clubroom wouldn't mind a cooking battle or a _shokugeki_ with him to round off the day. He loved to cook, but he loved to cook with someone, fighting tooth and nail on the opposite side of the bench.

Souma slowed his jog and took a small moment to catch his breath before grasping the inverted handle of the door. The floor thumped in time with the music. His eyes widened. It wasn't just any music, was this a movie score? There was no singing, just constant battling of instruments, as if they were showing off to each other. He wasted no time and opened the door.

 _'What the heck?'._

Souma had to rub his sockets to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or that his eyeballs had flipped degrees to the sheer sight of elegant madness puncturing his vision with its paradox. This wasn't a party. This was a _bloodbath._ He stared at the two rampant figures on the opposite side _shredding_ their kitchen stations apart. The rhythmic bass filled his heart with anxiety and excitement for something he didn't know what to call. It flooded his bloodstream, almost changing the beat of his heart. The sound of violin and flutes shrieked at him and he felt the need to duck and cover, so his knees quiver before he caught a grip back on reality and straightened himself.

"Oh hello. Would you like to stay and spectate? I assure you, they won't mind".

A disembodied cadence snagged his attention. Souma snapped out of it and turned his golden eyes to find a tall student standing in front of him. He gulped. He was a tall and bespectacled guy. He looked more mature, ever more so than Isshiki- _senpai_ , so perhaps he was in third year. He had a strange sort of accent that wasn't from _Tokyo._ He somehow made it sound like he could outclass anyone with just a word or two, without disturbing a strand of hair. His voice was rich, smooth and deep like that radio host for the jazz music channel _Oyaji_ liked to listen to on his breaks.

"Uh… yeah sure. This looks hectic. W-What's going on?".

The elder student jutted out his pointed chin and pivoted on his heels. He casted his pale-green gaze at the two student chefs, who were battling it out as if their lives depended on it. He had a regal posture as he oversaw the spectacle. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, which kind of reminded him of Nakiri Erina when she was about to tear him a new one, but his thin lips were instead pressed together and curled at the corners, exuding his own brand of class. Souma then noticed there was someone else in the room and he wondered how in the hell did he miss the behemoth sitting backwards on a chair next to the speakers. He was a freaking hulk. His muscles bulged out from the short sleeves of his maroon uniform undershirt and damn did he look ripped. Did this guy… like… repeat grades or something?! He looked more like a _man_ than a teenage student. He spied some facial hair along the strong, square jaw and Souma was coloured intrigued. This dude had intense light brown eyes accentuated by thick and well-defined eyebrows, giving him a permanently wild and feral countenance. He had long messy brown hair pulled and tied back, and his head was shaved along the sides and had some zig-zag pattern that looked reminiscent of Pacific Islander designs he'd seen from the knick-knack shop in his hometown.

"It's a _PvP_ ".

"Sorry, what?". Souma blanched and turned back to the smooth voice from beside him.

"Technically speaking, it's a cook-off, but in this clubroom, we call it a _PvP_ since it's only one against one".

"What're you guys talking about?".

Souma let his eyes stray to regard the two older students at the front of the clubroom. First of all, he understood almost _nothing_ about the whole sentence and he was sure they were supposed to use normal vocabulary and any other normal Japanese lexicon because anyone could see that right now, but he felt like he had stepped through the looking glass on this one. Finally, The Hulk turned towards him and penetrated him with stoney amber eyes with a raised thick brow. Awkwardness settled over him as the music intensified to match the piercing stare from the big-guy. He didn't say a word.

"My apologies, but you _are_ aware of which clubroom this is, no?", said the one with the posh accent.

"Nope".

"Ah. Welcome to _The Guild_ , formerly known as the Gamer's Cuisine RS. My name is Ishikagaku Kasai, the current President. At your service", he nodded at Souma.

The redhead was blasted out of the water by the gentlemanliness and humility of his words. He sounded posh _and_ polite?! Shut the front door! How come nobody else talked like that at school! The students here were rich as hell, so couldn't they afford etiquette lessons like this dude or something? Souma bobbed his head and grinned. It was like being polite and courteous was too cheap for the Nakiri clan and their lot.

"I'm Yukihira Souma from Yukihira Diner. I'm a first year student. Nice to meet you".

Souma stuck out his hand so Ishikikagaku- _senpai_ could put it there. The mature student took a short pause to eye his extended hand before he adjusted his glasses first and then gripped Souma's hand and gave it a small shake. The red head felt a tingling strength pass through where their palms connected. This guy had strong forearms, he must be a strong cook too.

"The name's Yuujou Tsurugi, and don't wear it out".

The beast of a guy gave him a thick two-fingered salute. His voice was everything Souma expected. It was low, and guttural like an actual animal. He even gave him a toothy, fanged smile. He didn't sense any harsh intimidation from the guy, the best he could describe was this masculine friendliness which exuded from his massive presence. He was feeling a bro-tastic connection happening. Souma returned him in kind with a confident stationary wave and a chilled-out nod. This bunch seemed amiable enough but he had a million and one questions running through his mind, amongst the addictive lyricless music which he realised was on a loop.

"So what's _The Guild_ about?".

Souma noticed Ishikikagaku- _senpai_ and Yuujou- _senpai_ had a mysterious glint in their eyes as they tried and failed to suppress a smile, as if they knew a juicy secret they were were tossing an to divulge. They shared a meaningful glance before returning to regard Souma.

"We utilise music from a variety of videogames in our culinary arts to create unique dishes based on our analysis and interpretations of different compositions and arrangements".

Souma felt kind of confused. Video game music? Cooking? It didn't make sense to him and he guessed his face showed it because the two _senpai's_ shared another enigmatic look before diverting their gazes from him. Souma took the moment to rack his brain and tried to form some connections on his own. He tilted his head and stroked his chin with his free hand and squinted his golden eyes at the other two students, whom he had yet to be introduced. They were _cleaving_ their ingredients in the most rigorous manner. _Kami-sama,_ it was like they were doped up on energy drinks… the ones _Oyaji_ banned him from having back in middle school. His head started to hurt from the constant drumming beats belting out through the speakers, but he couldn't come up with a conclusion on how music and food worked together, so he sighed to signify his defeat.

"I know this is an _unorthodox_ concept for most, but what good are the arts, whether culinary or not, if it were strapped down by conventions and rules", said Ishikagaku- _senpai_.

The bespectacled upperclassman nodded towards the two students who were going at it like crazy at the cooking stations. He understood _that_ part. They had yet to notice Souma and he applauded them on their stead-fast concentration. He kind of credited the frenzied music for masking him from their notice.

' _He's got me there'._

If there was one thing Souma looked for in food wherever he went, it was passion. The were no rules for creating with passion. As he stared at the blonde and dark-haired boys poring over every little detail of their dishes, he could see the brimming light bursting forth from everything thing they touched. The ingredients were glistening, the utensils were shining with use, the flames on the stove did the tango. Yet, amongst the powerful energy reverberating from the cooking stations, which mingled furiously with the music, Souma noticed a refined control in each of the boys' movements, and where their focused eyes concentrated on. They were… in time with each other? No… In time with the music? _Impossible!_ How could someone cook _and_ be in time with the music?! Every chop was precise… every stir was spaced out to perfection… Souma understood that a chef's use of timing weighed the same importance as ingredients and technique: to bring out the best of the flavour. Undercooking and overcooking was evidence of poor timing. The molecules in the food itself were in no way dependent on sound waves ricocheting through the air, right? So how were the boys' movements and strokes echoing the beats and rhythm of the song, and yet, it betrayed nothing but the magnificent aroma of their dishes which promised him a delicious experience!

"Hey, how do you guys _not_ get distracted by the music? Doesn't it mess you up after a while?", asked Souma. He was curious more than dubious.

"Excellent question. I train my _kohai_ to feel the music more than listen to it",

"Huh?", Souma deadpanned.

"Place your hand right _here_ ".

Ishikagaku- _senpai_ stepped forward and unfurled one finger to point at Souma. He blinked in confusion and let his eyes trail down to the tips of the _senpai's_ slender finger, aimed at his chest. Souma hesitated, trying once more to connect the dots. Nothing gelled together. So, he resigned again and did as he was told. As soon as his palms rested against his sternum, the predictable resonation in his chest echoed and pulsed against his hand as Souma breathed in and out. What's the big deal? He was alive. But something in the back of his mind told him there was more to it than just touching his chest and being… not-dead. His eyes unfocused on its own as he concentrated on what Ishikagaku- _senpai_ was trying to tell him.

… _Duh-duhn_ … _du-duhn_ … _du-duhn._ …

"They say that music is the language of the heart".

Souma looked up with wide eyes, but his arm doesn't fall away. The comfortable but stirring beats in his chest stayed his hand. He felt the innate compulsion to keep checking that each thump was still present. He needed to keep feeling it, to keep understanding.

"There's a logical sense to that", Ishikagaku- _senpai_ continued. "Many have different theories on from where and when _'music'_ originated. Some say music came before man, that it's a biological and evolutionary tool used by animals to communicate and find mates for reproduction, as evident in animal mating calls… bird-songs, and whale-songs. Others say it was man _himself,_ who invented _'music'_ through trying to imitate natural sounds, where we bend what is already there to our will until we like it".

"So, what does it have to do with the heart?", asked Souma.

"All music is a pattern of sound timed perfectly regardless of what it is… Dripping water… chirping crickets… galloping horses… _beating hearts_. Feel the music in your heart".

Souma gasped. That inescapable feeling of something akin to epiphany blossomed in his noggin as he stared at Ishikagaku- _senpai_. His heart danced in his chest as a few pieces starting to thread together, his understanding was building crumb, by crumb as his senses opened, almost fully to channel the music suffusing the air as it continued to control his heartbeat.

"You put your heart into your cooking, yes?".

Souma nodded furiously.

" _They_ put their hearts into their cooking too".

The older student gestured to the two boys. The dark haired one and the blonde one, who for some baffling reason still hadn't noticed Souma was in the room, having a deep conversation with their RS President. They were enraptured in their own cooking. The awe of their performance at the kitchen stations continuing to steal his breath.

"Music can make people dance, cry, fall in love, move across countries, go to war, and so on. It elicits such _profound_ emotions from people. Music is the vehicle for people to _project_ their feelings and _tell_ their stories. There is music created by people who have experiences that cannot be put into words and you can only have the _privilege_ of knowing it through listening to their _music._ It makes you see _beyond_ your limitations, makes you see _new_ horizons even if you can't physically leave. Imagine, Yukihira-san…".

Ishikagaku- _senpai_ moved until he was abreast.

"These boys have learnt to feel _everything_ there is to feel".

He punctured the end of his sentence as he pointed at the boys cooking away again. Souma could see the unmistakable pride overflowing from the taller student's eyes as they sparkled and gleamed at the two students.

"Imagine… what _they_ have to offer in their dishes… with hearts as deep as _theirs_ ".

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* * *

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' _Best friend or not. I won't let you have it'._

Yozora wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. He and Hayato-kun had done this so many times, and yet this couldn't be any closer to a life or death situation. The President's _seat_ was at stake and he'd be damn that he would let another snatch it from under him… even if it was his best friend. He had a vision to see through and it could only happen once the seat was his. The music blaring from the speakers vibrated through his bones and spoke to his heart. It thrummed until every nerve ending sparked and sizzled. He'd cooked to battle themes more than a handful of times and it always brought a rush and urgency from him. His adrenaline spiked up and the sense of risk and danger went through the roof. From a technical point of view, battle themes were harder to deal with compared to melodic themes, simply because of the intensity and repetitiveness of the musical phrases, meaning there was less to work with. The pounding, thumping beats and the piercing strings and brass could take-over an inexperienced or lesser chef's mind and throw them off their game in the kitchen without warning.

But not him.

This was different. There was something about this piece that screamed _No. This is an ambush!_ He felt he figured it out. The ferocity to carve scars and make a mark in his cooking deepened in his chest but he stayed his hands from getting overzealous. Yes, music controlled him, but he too controlled the music. It was a symbiotic partnership that he couldn't explain to another being for the life of him if he tried. As far as he was concerned, it was an innate, instinctual calling that he quickly understood and never questioned from the first moment Kasai- _senpai_ demonstrated on Tsurugi- _senpai_. No. He couldn't pull up the memory now, he needed to concentrate on what the music was telling him. _What was it? What was it telling him?_ _What ambush?_ No, he had to figure it out himself. Nothing came easy in the music or culinary world. The instruments shrieked at him again to hurry up and he heeded it's warning. He narrowed his blue eyes as he worked harder than he had ever done before.

Yozora went through a quick check as he zipped the steps in his head. Just an hour or so ago, he had finished preparing his **wallaby fillet**. He had stumbled upon the unique meat from a specialist vendor in uptown Tokyo for an amazing price this week and was saving it for a _Witch Hunter_ recipe he had devised yesterday, somewhere between midnight and early morning. Also, the vendor had a shipment of assorted Australian products. He couldn't pass up the chance to buy as many Australian made condiments, dried goods, spices, cheeses, meats and all sorts with the knowledge of how legendary the quality of Australian products were. Australian beef in Japan was expensive as it was, but with the increase in his allowance this year, why not? As soon as he heard the track, it pulled to him all at once. He _had_ to use the emu meat for this! There was no possible way he could pass it up. It was the _calling_. So that was the first ingredient he grabbed from their clubroom's industrial fridge and freezer.

He had finalised the **beetroot poached in blackberry wine** thirty minutes ago. It was an easy affair. He just had to combined the blackberry win and juice in a small saucepan and simmer the beetroots in it under a lid until it was tender. Yozora hadn't needed to count a minute to know when it was done, again, the music did that for him. If he knew the _tempo_ or beats per minute, then he could discern the timing of each stage of cooking perfectly, as it was second nature. The sweet pungency emanating from the hot saucepan lick at his nostrils and he was already salivating.

His neck twitched. _Damn._ The bar with the piano chords got to him every single time. His stomach roiled as the need to fight back and then flee. It spurned him further.

' _No. Don't let it get to you'._

Yozora briefly looked over to Hayato-kun who was elbow deep in his mixing bowl, working his arms like a miller as his nose pinched up pure concentration. He had never seen Hayato-kun looked so determined before and he surmised he must want the seat just as much as he did.

The dark-haired student returned to the pepperberries and bush lemon myrtle which he had grounded in his spice grinder. A few more of the unique Australian dried goods he snatched up from the store. Its spicy and fragrant wild aroma was addicting. He had wanted to experiment with it on more of his deep-exploration recipes inspired by _Chrono Cross Original Soundtrack_. But again, the music had a different plan and he too felt the need to use it in the most important dish of his school career. He rubbed the spice mix evenly onto the wallaby backstraps, making sure it coated took half and placed it covered in a bowl and shoved it into the mini-fridge under the kitchen bench, while the other four, he quickly fried it. The explosive sizzling of the spice encrusted ruby-red meat sparked aggression in the pits of his belly, as the aroma wafted and tantalised his nostrils. It was probably his rampant imagination, but even the crackling and spitting was tousling with the melody of the battle theme which yanked on his heart. Yozora expertly sliced the backstraps and placed them into a bowl to cover an rest. Then he poured the bubbling juices from the sliced wallaby to the reserved blackberry poaching liquid and left it on low heat and simmered it until it thickened up to a glossy sheen. After the tempo told him it was one minute, he took it off the heat and added a knob of butter, stirring it carefully until it was fully incorporated. He sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper until it was perfect.

His hands ghosted over his ears, missing the comfort of his head phones.

The heat flamed around him. The stove and over were going and so were the ones from Hayato-kun's side. The kitchen couldn't possibly be this hot with just the two of them in a big room. He shut his eyes momentarily glimpsed actual fire licking at his heels.

 _'Don't let it drag you. Feel it_ _'._

The skin at the back of his neck glistened with heavy droplets of sweat. His breath ebbed away with the heat and it took a few blinks for Yozora to land back in the kitchen with a thud. Wallaby and blackberry jus, beetroot poached in black berry wine. He had seen it as soon as he had sliced down the first _monster_ the battle theme conjured up. When the beast melted away under the brutality of his blade, the rising violins, chugging electric guitar, and pounding percussion had announced the arrival of the swiftest foe yet. A vicious and violent force of nature impossible to battle against, as impossible as dampening the rising urgency as the music blasting from the speakers.

' _Fire. Bushfire'._

His body ran on pure adrenaline. For the **macadamia and mushroom crumb** , the spread the macadamias onto a backing tray and placed it in the oven and mentally set it for five minutes. They needed to be golden brown. Then he placed the dried mixed Australian mushrooms and salt into the food processor and blitzed it into a fine powder. When his internal clock rang out at the start of the bridge, he pulled out the nuts from the oven and was delighted to see the tinge of rich caramel on the macadamias. He dusted it with the mushroom powder , stirring them to coat and getting the air in there to help cool it a bit. Then he poured them all into the food-processor and blitzed them into a coarse crumb.

' _That's down. Next up'._

Yozora wiped his brow and moved onto the next stage. Bang, bang, bang. He had to keep moving. For the **wild shiitake** , he warmed the butter onto a new frying pan and grated in the Tasmanian black truffle. _That_ costed him an arm and a leg and he'll soon hear it from his _Otou-san…_ he increased the heat and added the wild shiitake mushrooms and simmered them until the butter was slightly brown and the mushrooms were beautifully cooked through. Once that was done, he flipped off the heat and set it aside.

' _The fire will take what is alive and sacred to us and cast it as confetti into the sky, first flowing red before cooling to black… hold your ground… when all seems lost and hope is shrouded in darkness, by tomorrow, we will stand on its ashes and live again. Hold your ground!'._

The music was now just a dim echo in his ears. But his heart. _Oh his heart!_ It throbbed with thirst and hunger. It dug into his chest as he felt the burn of the kitchen and forest fire as one ripping through him. The pain and anguish sliced through him as the trees peeled and cracked under the cruelty of the rampant flames.

' _This_ _battle theme is probably for monsters but… if I want this seat, DON'T go for the obvious! Look beneath the underneath, there are endless possibilities!'._

He only had half an hour left and he quickly finished up the last of his cooking before he could prepare his plate. Yozora twisted around locked his attention onto his final stage, the **native pepper crusted wallaby**. He grabbed the reserved wallaby from the fridge and fried it over high heat. He cooked it on all sides, turning them consistently using the tempo to help him space it out. For this to work, the wallaby meat needed to be rare.

' _Hayato-kun is finishing up too'._

Yozora wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his arms. He instinctively avoided his shoulders accidentally skimming his ears as habitually he would've worn his headphones and drowned pleasantly in his music. It really was an odd sensation to not feel the weight of his headphones over his ears whist cooking. He picked up the pace. It was time to serve. Yozora spooned two full tablespoons of the macadamia crumb along one side of his plate, like a stoic crescent moon where it's rippling reflection casted onto the ashen surface of a lake in the middle of a burnt forest. Then he cut the step off four of the poached beetroots and placed them upside down onto the crumb. It began to look a large glistening, globule of dark ember, the smoking remains of a tree stump. Next, he halved the remaining poached beetroot and arranged it along the crumb.

Yozora didn't bother to glance over Hayato-kun anymore to know that the blonde was approaching the finishing line at break-neck speed too.

He reached over to the wild shiitake mushrooms and positioned them face down so the thick stems were showing and also placed them along the crumb, weaving between the beetroots. His vision was coming into focus. He stuck out his tongue and held it between his teeth as he fought his fingers to still and complete his presentation.

He used a teaspoon to spoon some of the truffle butter onto the mushrooms he was entranced as it slithered and riveted through the cap and dribbled exquisitely down the dark brown sides and soak into the nest of crumbs. He threw the teaspoon into the sink just as the below of trumpets signaled the ending of the loop.

' _Ten minutes'._

Yozora grabbed his sharpest knife and sliced through the pieces of native pepper crusted wallaby strips into halves and placed them onto the remaining spaces on the macadamia crumb. Yozora pulled out the small fennel fronds out of the packet from under the kitchen bench and carefully laid it onto his masterpiece. He poured the blackberry and wallaby _jus_ into a little ceramic jug

He was sure Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ weren't expecting this at all.

' _Five… six… seven… eight'._

Silence fell.

"First to finish is Hayato!", roared Tsurugi- _senpai._

Huh?

Yozora darted his eyes and narrowed them to the sweating blonde who puffed out his chest with pride. He wiped his dripping nose with the back of his sleeve. The pride and triumphant twinkle in his eyes flicked at Yozora's anxiety and tension. Hah, the bastard thought he had the winning dish did he? When was he ever going to learn to stop underestimating him. His baby-blue eyes connected with his and he gave him a weary wink and Yozora returned a nod and a smile. Some things just wouldn't change. They both turned back to the front and their jaws fell slack at the same time. They had an unexpected visitor…

"Hey guys".

"Hey, man!".

Of course, Hayato-kun would greet the newcomer as if he was a long-lost friend.

When did this person appear? Was he like… another hallucination he had with the music? No, no. That's over now. Wow, he must've been completely in the zone to the point that he disregarded everything else around him. Normally, he would retain some of his periphery senses in any other PvP, but he guessed since this _PvP_ meant so much to him, his mind blocked out everything except himself and Hayato-kun. He was a lanky and smiling golden-eyed, red-headed fellow who seemed to be the same species as Hayato-kun. They both shared friendly exuberant smiles and they both exuded a pleasant and welcoming energy. He wore his school shirt untucked and unbuttoned so he could see the navy-blue undershirt. Sure… he and Hayato-kun got whipped by the jack-end of the earphones from Kasai- _senpai_ if they so much as appear with a wrinkle in their school sweater, but this guy gets to stand beside their magnanimous club-president dressed like he rolled out of bed? He never understood the workings of Kasai- _senpai's_ mind. The visiting student had an off-white sash tied around his wrist and there was an old and beaten knife-case set beside his feet. Second hand sneakers too. Based on his attire, the red-head wasn't like the other ninety-nine percent of the school so already Yozora put him higher above the rest. Yozora just nodded at him and offered him a stationary wave as he was too tired to do any more than that. He was still a bit unsure and wary of how to make out this situation with a… stranger… in their clubroom. Yozora blinked stupidly for the first time in ages and he just looked at his president for some kind of explanation.

"This is Yukihira Souma. He'd chanced upon our _PvP_ in the middle of the round and I've invited him to stay and watch. Yukihira-san, this is Ginsekai Hayato and Mitsunaga Yozora", Kasai- _senpai_ extended his hand to them.

"Welcome friend! Did you enjoy the show?", laughed Hayato-kun, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve.

"Man, it was off the hook! I've never seen anyone cook like that before", exclaimed Yukihira Souma.

Yozora kind of wished he had his headphones right now because he was starting to feel a bit awkward. People rarely took the time to watch him cook as other students tended to avoid the _otaku_ of the class. He usually just slipped on his headphones, kept his head down and cook, comfortable to be as inconspicuous as possible. He knew the red-head didn't mean any harm, but this _PvP_ was kind of personal to him and he would appreciate it if it was only the four of them in the clubroom to watch and judge. But he wasn't class president yet, so he couldn't really say anything except:

"Can we judge or not?", he deadpanned.

Immediately, everyone turned their gazes to him and he gulped. He didn't mean to sound impatient, he just wanted to find out if he was going to be President or not. Yep. Wished his headphones were here.

"Of course. Since Hayato-kun finished first—"

"Right here!"

Hayato-kun had recharged quickly and slipped his dish unto his fingers like a trained waiter. He bounded to the front of the classroom and gently placed his dish on the desk. Yukihira Souma immediately crowded around the dish in awe while Kasai- _senpai_ leaned in rigidly to inspect the dish. Tsurugi- _senpai_ lifted himself off of the chair and only needed to take one large step to the desk and he was already shadowing it. Hayato-kun's dish was a truly spectacular embodiment of the battle theme.

"I call this _**hot squared sour soup**!"_

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* * *

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"Far out. I'm really impressed".

It looked so appetising. Souma marveled at the glistening sheen on the sorbet sitting triumphant over a bed of cheery spiced and caramelised pineapples. The little golden nuggets were like a pile of gold, and the soft beige sorbet atop was the goose's golden egg waiting to for a spoon to dive in and split it. There were tiny flecks of moss green within the sorbet and it piqued Souma's interest further. It was garnished with coriander and Souma racked is brains out for why on earth would a dessert _sorbet_ dish would be served with herbs. Unless… it wasn't a dessert dish at all. At first glance, the dish didn't look much and looked simple and bare. The little ceramic jug steaming beside the shallow bowl added a bit of intrigue. It's deceptive simplicity was all the more reason for him to salivate. With music as hectic as that, this dish was bound to be full of surprises.

"' _Hot squared?'_ Why?", smirked Yuujou- _senpai_. He stroked his stubbly chin with his thick fingers as he seared the dish with his heated eyes.

"You get heat because it's hot and heat from the spices as well so… it's a big ball of fun! I wanted to capture the excitement and the kick-arse intensity of the battle theme. Battle music doesn't need to evoke a panic-filled adrenaline rush in the player. Rather it can be exciting and make the fight exhilarating. Like this one!"

Souma nodded. This piece was rather upbeat compared to other battle music he'd heard from role-playing video games his friends from middle school shared. It was action-filled and fast-paced. The red headed started to see the resonance and connection between food and music now. All he needed was an example. If he was a character in his video game, he definitely would need to keep moving and be light on his feet fighting against monsters and enemies. The music in the background would complement that set the mood for his concentration to keep steeled and steady.

"So I've made a coconut and kaffir lime sorbet with caramlised smoked pineapples. You eat it with the hot and spicy soup".

"Would you do the honours and pour the soup for us?", gestured Ishikagaku- _senpai._

Ginsekai puffed out his chest and carefully poured the liquid citrine _around_ the sorbet. It didn't even splash as it slid down the shining white surface of the dish as it washed around the bed of pineapples. The soup was bright and clear, filled with flecks of chilly and glimmering spots of oil dotting the surface.

"I was thinking how you were going to combine the two, but you've lifted the sorbet out of the soup which is nice", commented Ishikagaku- _senpai_.

The bespectacled _senpai_ magically took out three spoons from out of nowhere. Three?

"I'm tasting too?" asked Souma, pointing to himself.

"It would be prudent if we want a final decision".

Souma got it now. They needed an odd number of judges, then it would sort of be like a _shokugeki_ outcome. He took the offered spoon and joined Yuujou- _senpai_ and Ishikagaku- _senpai_ as they spooned some of the sorbet, along with the pineapple and soup and right up into their mouths.

Souma noticed the heat and the coldness immediately. It was like a clash which somehow worked together and it made the dish absolutely unique and stunning. The rich coconut flavour was accentuated by the fragrant kaffir lime leaves and it brought out a brightness which was creative and exciting. He'd never tasted this flavour combination before and he found it refreshing. He was amazed and had to have more. He scooped up more of the pineapple, making sure it was smothered in more sorbet and the hot and spicy soup. Aw man, the heat! It flooded his mouth, at war with the smooth coldness. It was an addicted heat. The sweetness of the caramel complimented the sour soup perfectly and the smokiness of the caramel reminded him of the smoking gun after lodging a well-earned bullet into the monster's skull after a big battle.

"Hmm. I love this dish. It's clever. I like the heat. The _course_ heat which danced with the cold and refreshing sorbet. You worked with the contrasting textures of the battle theme where the piano plays alongside the electric guitar", said Yuujou- _senpai_.

"This is certainly inventive, exciting and fun to eat. You've really pushed yourself beyond your limits Hayato-kun, well done. Your take on the battle theme was creative and brilliant and it shows in your dish which I'm happy to eat again. What do you think, Yukihira-kun?",

All eyes were on him and Souma placed the spoon back onto the desk.

"Like, I'm sweating here guys. But that's cool. I'm okay to sweat for it because I love it. The flavour combinations are banging and it just leaves my palate wanting more and more. I think the contrast between the cold and heat was awesome too. Like, I can see now how this video game music theme you have going really brings dishes to a new height. When I tasted this, I imagine myself fighting alongside some trusted comrades going at it and kicking my enemies arse or something. It tastes great and looks really exciting", said Souma.

The huge student flashed him a wolfish grin and the graceful _senpai_ nodded with a small smile, looking pleased at his response.

"Thanks guys!", Ginsekai bowed and bounded back to the cooking station.

"Next is Yozora-kun".

The dark haired student collected his plate and stepped up to the desk. Souma was drawn to the rich and deep colours presented on the plate. There were mouth-watering morsels of succulent meat arranged carefully to showcase the pinking flesh of red meat, almost like a perfect ruby geode. There was a trained composure in this fellow. His eyes were serious and sharp, it made Souma feel almost uneasy but he quickly brushed it aside. He was probably shy! His posture was stiff, not relaxed at all like Ginsekai who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, pleased with the critique he received from his _senpai_ and himself.

"Tell us about your dish, Yozora-kun", said Ishikagaku-senpai.

Mitsunaga cleared his throat.

"I've made **_pepper crusted wallaby, beetroot poached in blackberry wine and a macadamia and mushroom crumb_**. I wanted to present an earthy dish".

"Wallaby? As in the cute furry animals from Australia?", blurted Souma.

"Yeah".

His voice was low and quiet, but there was a hidden storm in his blue eyes. Souma decided that this fellow was the one to look out for. If this guy was in any of his classes, well, let's just say that Souma shouldn't relax around him. His guts told him that he was going to be a powerhouse in Tootsuki for sure, even if he looked introverted. Souma returned his attention to the dish. It was very dark, compared to Ginsekai. Only the fennel leaves were bright against the earthy brown tones of the crumb and the redness of the meat and the poached beetroots made him salivate again. Oh boy. Ishikagaku-senpai began to cut the wallaby meat and the beetroots into bite-sized pieces. Souma picked up the fork and carefully stabbed it through the meat. Wow! It was tender already! Once the meat found purchase onto the tines, the stabbed it again into the beetroot pieces and mushrooms, smothering it in the crumbs too. The red head took a look at Mitsunaga again and was instantly rooted to the spot by that penetrating gaze, as if his focus was only for Souma.

He placed his morsel onto his tongue.

' _Fuck'._

What the hell… It was _incredible!_ The charcoal and smokiness of the pepper spices singed his tongue and it sunk its claws into his palate not letting go, demanding him to swallow and take another bite. The lemon myrtle lifted the flavour even higher. The juice from the wallaby meat burst into his mouth and Souma chomped down onto it. It was like the primordial part of his brain commanded his instincts to tear into the flesh like a wild animal. Rich and gamey juice screamed a burnt earthiness. The acidity of the beetroot sliced through the gaminess and created a pleasant combination of flavours that wafted through his soft palate and nostril.

"I must say, the flavours are astounding. You've used contrast in the battle piece to mould your dish as well, but I can't say you've used the musical techniques like Hayato-kun did, but rather… contrast in themes?", Ishikagaku- _senpai_ suggested.

"Yes, _senpai._ We think of battle music as being exclusive to battles against monsters and enemies, which is true in videogames. But I wanted to go a different direction. A direction that's _not_ to do with videogames".

"Come again?", grunted Yuujou- _senpai._

It seemed that, _that_ particular commented grabbed the _senpai's_ attention more than the food in that moment.

"People go through different battles in their lives. Emotional, mental… political. Battles to protect people and things they love or even their way of life. Battles in videogames is one way to channel all that adrenaline, frustration, pent-up energy to find that sweet release. For people who constantly battle their demons in their daily life, they can find salvation in video games where their problems are manifested into the monsters and enemies they cut down. The battle music helps to share that load, a conduit, to express those emotions".

Souma mulled over his themes. He'd never thought of videogames in this way.

"Wallaby meat". Yuujou- _senpai_ grunted. "A native animal from the _'Sunburnt Country,'_ Australia. They have frequent bush fires there, don't they? It can get pretty catastrophic and heaps of people lose their homes _and_ in some cases, their lives to it. That's one battle, right there. Fighting against the inevitable destruction of nature to protect your home and family. I didn't see this one coming, kid!". Yuujou-senpai belted a hearty chuckle as he lapped up the beetroot jus from his fork.

"There is a mellow richness to the wallaby meat which is beautiful and fills the mouth. This dish uses a variety of textures with the soft beetroot, the crumbs and the tender meat, which add more to its complexity, just like the battle theme is a complex arrangement. I am impressed with the battle with bushfire theme to this dish. It makes one conjure the visage of flames ravaging the country and only the brave could withstand its heat and endure to put it out. But that's not all, is it Yozora-kun?".

Souma could've sworn he saw a tiny smirk on the student. Ishikagaku- _senpai_ adjusted his spectacles.

"The smokiness of the peppery meat and the roasted macademia calls to me… the next part of the battle is picking up the pieces from the ashes. Finding out what was saved and what was irrevocably lost, and how to deal with that loss. The lingering bittersweet taste is what ties me back to the dish for more. The flavours are melded together one after the other… wallaby meat, beetroot, mushrooms and macademia… like a story, Yozora-kun", continued Ishikagaku _-senpai._

"Alright then. Point to the winning dish and that lucky twerp gets the President's seat of _The Guild!",_ boomed Yuujou _-senpai._

Souma knew which dish he was going to choose.

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* * *

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This was the most extraordinary day of his _life._

He blinked _twice_ today.

Once, when he was stumped at seeing a stranger in his clubroom and the second time when all three of them were pointing to his dish with their forks.

His hands shook and his breath halted. He couldn't believe it. He'd won. He was going to be President of _The Guild!_ Yozora slumped, feeling so tired and worn out he didn't know what to do. Collapse onto his knees or fall backwards into a faint. The adrenaline worn off and his hearing dimmed from the echoing thumps in his chest. He looked over to Hayato-kun. His blonde was leaning over his kitchen station with his messy blonde hair in his arms heaving. Yozora walked over and patted him on the shoulder, but Hayato-kun wouldn't let up. Worry scratched at the surface. Hayato-kun really wanted the seat too. Finally he lifted his tear-filled eyes and offered the _biggest_ smile Yozora had ever seen. It broke his heart.

"You… d-deserved it, buddy", whispered Hayato-kun.

The quiver and strain in his voice as he fought to keep his tears at bay pulled at Yozora's heart-strings. They've had many _PvPs_ in the past, but Hayato-kun always bounced right back up and only emitted foolish optimism. Yozora thumbed away a stray tear as the blurry vision of his _senpais_ walked over with proud smiles on their faces. The battle was emotional for him and he realised it was emotional for his _senpais_ too. His president _gave up_ his position early to pave the way for the younger generation. Yuujou- _senpai_ had been mentoring and watching them grow from the sidelines as he and Hayato-kun turned from scaredy-cat _otakus_ to formidable and accomplished chefs. He and Hayato-kun had opened up their hearts to a new world of cooking which combined their passions and they could never stop.

"You fought valiantly, Hayato-kun", said Kasai- _senpai_.

Hayato-kun looked up and took one big intake of breath and exhaled, completely deflating his lungs before composing himself again. He quirked a crooked smile and sniffed, his eyes were bloodshot with tears but Yozora-kun can tell he was still grieving his loss.

Yozora-kun would describe his heart like music from a great orchestra. At times it was quite and allowed him to function, at other times, the violins would play and he would be sad, then at other times it would rise to a _crescendo_ and the anger would burst from his chest in a vicious shout of anguish. Right now there was a flute playing he remembered his _PvPs_ with Hayato-kun with fondness, the losses and the wins, this moment was just like the last. There was more after and both he and Hayato-kun's future was brimming with many opportunities. He allowed himself to enjoy the moment now.

"For any of you… Yozora-kun, Hayato-kun… to achieve any degree of success, you need to be critical and hard on yourself, but equally so, having problems and difficulties as you embark on your careers is exactly what you need because that is the process of learning. Take no notice of anybody but yourself when it comes to your cooking because it is _your voice_ … _your music_ … that makes you unique. On that note, I'm _so_ proud of you boys"

Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ clapped them on the back. Their hands were heavy, warm and comforting as they squeezed his shoulders. Hayato-kun rose from the bench and wrapped his arms around Yozora. He stiffened in surprise and returned it with all he could muster. They were going on a journey together. They were going to show Tootsuki, show the _world_ everything they have to offer.

"Congratulations buddy. I'm happy for you man! Really!".

There is was, Hayato-kun back to himself again. Yozora grinned and ruffled his blonde strands, making them both chortle and laugh.

"So now that you're newly crowned, your majesty, what's your first decree?".

Yozora looked around, thinking of what he should do for the first decision as club president. Did it have to be now? Or could he think about it more carefully and decide later? He looked around to find inspiration and his gaze landed on Yukihira Souma who was promptly ignoring them and polishing off the two plates that decided the fate of _The Guild_. He had an idea.

"That piece, Kasai- _senpai_ … do you have the whole album of the game?".

"As a matter of fact, I do. However, it's only the first draft of the complete album. I imagine the music will still need to undergo editing and re-arrangement for the final soundtrack merchandise to be released after the game".

"That's alright. Could you send Hayato-kun and I the whole album, but first, change all the song titles into their track numbers?", he pointed to Tsurugi- _senpai's_ smartphone in the dock.

"Of course, but may I ask why?", he crossed his arms.

"This year's _recipe album_ study… It's going to be _that_ album, but I don't want the song titles or knowing which game it's from to bias our creation. We focus purely on what the music brings out in us. No context. For the whole year, we are going to cook to _this_ album. So don't tell us".

Hayato-kun rubbed his head and the proverbial light-bulb 'dinged' over his head. He clapped his hands together and whooped, making sure to whack Yozora right between the shoulder blades and sending him reeling.

"Great idea! We can call our recipe album **_'Hidden Tracks'_** "

"I've already listened to a few of the songs while on the can, so I could work with that", Yuujou- _senpai_ grinned and folded his muscled arms behind his head, the expanse of his biceps and chest rippling under the fabric.

"So have I, but _not_ when using the lavatory". Kasai- _senpai_ tutted at his classmate. "I already know the game it's composed for and names for most of the songs, but I will enjoy the challenge nonetheless. "I think this year's challenge will be interesting. No context and only the heart, hmm? I look forward to it". his sandy-haired _senpai_ adjusted his glasses with his index finger and flashed an amusing smile.

Yozora smirked. Yep. The battle song from the mystery album was the defining moment for his school life. It made sense to him to dedicate one or two recipes this year to _every_ song in this album. Its battle arrangement was unique, action-packed, addictive and called out a part of him that filled his soul. There was just something _special_ to it. The rest of the album had to be a treasure trove of brand new fresh takes on video-game music.

This year was going to be _a lot_ of fun.

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* * *

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"This just came in Erina-sama".

Hisako lined up a folder in front of Erina as she perused through a summary of the Research Societies that requested new equipment and stock. Who knew the first week of school would be elbow deep in paperwork so quickly. First year was definitely a huge leap from the middle school division, administration wise. Erina sighed and dumped the Dumpling RS's file onto the outbox and picked up the folder Hisako presented. She should already have all the Research Societies' files on her desk, but she guessed this was a late straggler. She crossed her leg and flipped it open with mechanical routine and grazed her bored eyes over the tiny words. Urgh. She couldn't be bothered reading it all.

"Summarise it for me, Hisako".

"Yes. _The Guild_ —".

"Stop right there. I don't want to hear anything about _The Guild"._

Erina snapped the folder shut and tossed it onto the table. She folded her arms under her breast and huffed, turning away her head. She had already put that embarrassing incident with that _boy_ out of her mind and she didn't want to be reminded again. The nasty and dirty feelings their untimely _accident_ made her shiver and it confused the hell out of her. She convinced herself over and over that their meeting was unpleasant and deeply insulting, almost as bad as Yukihira Souma.

"But you kind of need to Erina-sama…". Hisako sighed and picked up the folder and opened it, ready to summarise anyway. Sometimes she could hear exasperation underlying Hisako's tone, but she said nothing about it.

"Oh alright".

"They have a new President now. First year student, Mitsunaga Yozora. Finalised yesterday", relayed Hisako.

First year? Already? It was unheard of for an RS president to be first year. Alice was the only exception for her RS, but that was different. It was the unwritten rule that Presidents needed to be second or third year to be considered experienced and mature enough to run a whole club. Considering the numbers in _The Guild_ were abysmal, a first year running it would be no problem. Erina considered the possibility again. No, the new club president needed to be accepted by an Elite Ten member.

"Who approved the request?".

"It was Isshiki- _senpai_ , Erina-sama".

Erina rolled her eyes. Of course Isshiki- _senpai_ would allow it. He had a knack for making things that the school frowned upon into a reality, and not really caring about the consequences it had on the Elite Ten. Isshiki- _senpai_ must have a good reason for allowing this change in leadership. It was a pity that only one Elite Ten member was needed to make the approval because nobody else was going to second it for propriety's sake, so _that_ would be end of that. To be club president, one had to be _exceptional._ The cream-of-the-crop everyone would say. Erina couldn't imagine any reason for a second year student to hand their presidential seat down until the end of their school career in _Tootsuki._ After all, club presidency came with an assortment of privileges that every student wanted to use up to their advantage before graduating. That only left one other conclusion. The ex-president felt The Guild needed to be steered in an untried and unknown direction from a _first year_ student.

It seemed there was a whole lot more to this Mitsunaga Yozora. Erina was curious.

"Hisako, I'm going to get Eizan- _senpai_ to add Mitsunaga Yozora into the _Autumn Elections_ line-up this year"

Hisako gasped. "Why?".

" _The Guild_ is a joke and barely hanging by a thread. If they deserve to still be a Research Society of _Tootsuki,_ then their new _President_ needs to step up to the plate. Eizan- _senpai_ likes to see people fail too, so he would probably go along with it. I want to affirm the fact that there is no place for videogames in _Tootsuki,_ or any part of the culinary world for that matter", announced Erina.

"Yes, Erina-sama. But first is the _Tootsuki Friendship and Rapport Training Camp._ If he fails it, then there is no point in arranging him in the _Autumns Elections"._

"That training camp is a piece of cake. He'll pass it since Isshiki- _senpai_ approved of his presidency. He must be competent to that level, at least. The _real_ test is the _Autumn Elections"._

Hisako gulped and nodded. She started to change the subject and moved onto other things on the agenda but Erina was barely listening. She instead listened to the ticking of the clock instead as she stared out into the sunset through her large office window. The yellow ball of fire changed hues to orange, and then almost tangerine. It merged with the sky, like powdered turmeric dissolving in a glass of water. The clouds were cotton candy, as though they blushed at the warm touch of the sun. Silhouettes of bird flew home across a sky that was now magenta.

Erina narrowed her eyes.

Mitsunaga Yozora.

His student identification picture was probably in T _he Guild's_ RS file, so she'd make sure to never open it. His eyes. She didn't know if she could handle herself if he looked right at her a second time. They struck a deep nerve in her. Those darts – sharp yet full of emotion. They weren't heavy or blunt, just _so_ apparent. When she first met his gaze, she felt drawn to his eyes, the icy blueness generated a feeling like she was being pulled into a lake of torrents. It was like all the myriad shades of blues swirled together to form a whirlpool of apprehension. She could tell by his body language that he didn't like her, and those flickering azure orbs confirmed her thoughts. Thinking about him now awoke aching feelings of wonder and mystery in her. It made her cheeks hot, her breathing stutter, her skin crawl and her stomach churn. It wasn't a wholly unpleasant feeling either…

… Just _new_ and _unfamiliar._

Mitsunaga was… not part of the norm… but for some reason, that didn't bother her as much as annoy her. She scoffed. The memory of his scent stuck with her too. She couldn't cut a tangerine without thinking about him… She couldn't walk past the administration building without thinking about him… She couldn't step on the fallen leaves in the courtyard without thinking about him. Over and over, she had to cram those thoughts into a box and crush it before it distracted her too much from her daily tasks.

Finally, she completely tuned-out her aide as she pressed her chin onto her fist.

' _We'll see if you last the year... Mitsunaga Yozora'._

* * *

 **Yay! Congratulations Yozora! You did it! I wanted to show you guys and an example of his skills.** **Here's the first full taste of what _'The Guild'_ is all about! ****I hope this idea of videogame music, cooking and food sounds interesting. Souma and Erina are about to go on the ride of their life hahaha! I find it exciting to explore how far I can take this concept :)**

 **As you can see, Erina's attention is more on Yozora than on Souma... That's because Souma's disregard for conventions and elitism is justified and logical because of his background, so in this story Erina can deal with it. But Yozora?... well... he makes _less_ sense to Erina... and we don't know about his family background yet.**

 **NOTE: The Kasai-** _senpai_ **in here calls Souma as 'Yukihira-kun' right off the bat. This is because Souma is younger than him (being a first year student) and therefore does not reach the same level as respect to have the '-san' honorific. If Souma was on the same level or older, then yes, he would be 'Yukihira-san'. Japanese society is very hierarchical, even amongst school students.**

 **I honestly don't know when I will update next, but I'm still working on the over-arching story with any spare time I can squeeze out, which is fun :)**

 **Let me know what you think and I'll see you (hopefully) soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	3. Hunt or Be Hunted

_Chapter 3 - Hunt or Be Hunted_

* * *

"You boys are an _embarrassment"._

Crap! Crap! Crap! They were late! Yozora dashed past his cross _senpai_ and snatched up all the clothes in plain view from the closet. Morning had come all too soon. He'd no time for shame and how much of a sad disappointment he was to his _senpai_ right now, only cramming as many things as he could as he thought on the fly. Clothes, uniform, chef's uniform, underwear, socks, laptop, chargers, cables, normal earphones, Bluetooth earphones, and battery pack. He'd seen all the _anime_ where the characters moved so fast that they left a blur of colour behind and he bet that he was a sweating whoosh of navy blue and black. He quickly skirted past Kasai- _senpai's_ coiled and tense form which was radiating with frustration as he grabbed his _Friendship and Rapport Building Cooking Camp Training Course_ pamphlet and shoved it into his travel bag.

He gulped when he saw his tall, bespectacled upperclassman tightening his grip on their spare apartment keys.

"Oh, fuck! _Kami-sama, Kami-sama!_ Socks! Where are you, clean socks?!", hollered Hayato-kun from the opposite bedroom.

This morning, Kasai- _senpai_ had shattered his dream-world with his commanding, authoritative and sonorous voice. His words alone hauled his and Hayato-kun's arses out of bed. When he opened his crusty lids, the sharp glare of sunlight from the slits of his window blinds ignited a panic through his system. They were shamefully late for their first assignment for the year! Oh fuck, indeed _._ They'd woken up faster than a cat in ice-water. Every sense had urged Yozora to claw his way to standing. Drowsiness got him dead by Kasai- _senpai's_ hands. Right now, he and Hayato-kun were the example of how the paranoid survive.

"Hey! Hey! Do you think I need my hair gel? TELL ME!".

"Out of my way!".

Yozora didn't give a fuck what Hayato-kun needed, there was no way on _Kami-sama's_ green Earth he was going to be the first _Tootsuki_ student to be expelled for tardiness! He raced down the hallway to the shared bathroom, hot on Hayato-kun's heels. He pushed him to the side while he was juggling his many confusing hair products and Yozora swiped everything on his half of the bathroom counter into the awaiting open mouth of his luggage, right on top of his mess of clothes, in one fell swoop. He could still feel the searing glare and killing intent of Kasai- _senpai_ from the kitchen, his intensity only magnified by his eye-glasses.

"Damn, don't even have time to shower or brush my teeth", muttered Mitsunaga through gritted teeth.

"And who's fault was that? Quit bitching and keep packing or you'll miss the coach, _Guild Master_ ".

Tsurugi- _senpai's_ wolfish grin didn't help the situation at all. That nick-name sounded awesome to him and made him feel powerful most times, but despite being the current President of _The Guild_ , the one with the actual power here was the ex-president, Kasai- _senpai,_ who had the _paladin skill_ to beat their dumb skulls nine ways to Sunday if they didn't pick up the pace. Tsurugi- _senpai_ sat backwards on his study chair like he normally would, spectating the boys running around like headless-chickens before him like an action-comedy movie. His bulging muscles made the backrest creak as he grunted his amusement. His sharp eyes twinkled with mirth at the first-year's expense and with no apologies. He looked a lot wilder in the morning, still unshaven and his locks, a feral mess falling between his muscled shoulder blades. Kasai- _senpai_ on the other hand had the ability to get dressed and fed in a fraction of a second and made it look effortless and graceful, as was his natural state. His back was ram-rod straight and his arms were crossed over his chest. His uniform was perfectly starched and ironed like every morning, which he did it all himself. He supervised his _kohai's_ from the kitchen, just short of tapping his foot against the tiles in unsightly impatience.

"Rinse your mouth with mouth-wash, that'll do!", he boomed at them.

"Yes, _senpai!"._

Yozora and Hayato-kun dropped everything they held and rushed back into bathroom. They grabbed their respective mouth-washes and sloshed the burning liquid for exactly thirty seconds before expelling it into the sink with a pained hiss. The tears leaked from Yozora's eyes but he wiped them away and recapped the bottle before taking it with him and dumping it into his travel bag beside his luggage.

' _Okay, is this enough?'._

Yozora was eighty-percent sure he had everything he needed in his luggage and he shoved his items in deeper and deeper to get the zipper working. Whatever he didn't have, he could worry about it later. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Hayato-kun slip in his _'Hidden Tracks'_ RS recipe album beneath his socks so he did the same. Finally, Yozora sat on his luggage and the zipper yielded and obeyed with a satisfying _'zip'._ He released a quick breath of relief but his troubles weren't over. He grabbed his smartphone and shoved it into his wrinkled trouser pockets and he looped his wireless headphones over his neck. He had no idea what he looked like right now, but he carded his fingers through his perspiring raven hair, hoping to get most of the tangles out from it and pass himself as presentable. Hayato-kun had no hope as his flaxen-blonde hair was the flattest it has ever been without his expensive hair-gel.

"Breakfast is on the table. Take that with you. The taxi is downstairs and waiting", Kasai- _senpai_ clipped.

Yozora didn't even realise he was hungry until now! His stomach protested loudly. He yanked out the metal handle of his luggage and it slid up to maximum. He swung his travel bag over his shoulders with a rough grunt and dragged everything with him out of the bedroom door. Kasai- _senpai's_ breakfast menus were to die for. He could pump out the most nutritious and mouth-watering morsels to jump start the busiest of days. He was about to apologise profusely to his _senpai_ for his sudden disorganisation and thank him for his generosity to cook them breakfast but stopped short when he only saw sitting on the dish was…

… plain toast…

"Ahhh… Is there butter?", Hayato-kun whined.

Kasai- _senpai_ snapped his viper-like eyes to them and peered _over_ his spectacles, as if it was the most infuriatingly inane thing he'd heard all year. Yozora felt so foolish on Hayato-kun's behalf.

"My apologies, but does it look like you have the time to spread, or _deserve_ butter at this very moment? Hmm?".

"No _senpai…"._

Yozora sucked it up and shoved the toast into his mouth. His feet pounded against the tiles like a sack of wet concrete as he struggled and tumbled out the door with his packed bags. His rasping throat was as dry as a mummified lizard and the crumbs from Kasai- _senpai's_ toast were like sandpaper wanting to make him choke in punishment. He didn't need to look back to see if Tsurugi- _senpai_ was guffawing at them because he could certainly hear his monstrous laughter echoing around the apartment.

"Hayato-kun come-on! We have–".

"Last one there's skinned alive by Kasai- _senpai!"._

Yozora had all the wind knocked out of his as he slammed against the apartment wall beside the door. This must be Hayato-kun getting back at him for pushing in the bathroom. He peeled himself off the plaster and steadied himself, glowering at Hayato-kun's disappearing back as he zoomed to the elevator with everything of his in tow and hanging out the side. Damn Hayato-kun and his penchant to make a game out of everything. He wasn't one to talk but right now he wasn't in the mood. His high school career and dream to be a world-renowned chef fell to this very exercise and he had no desire to lose, now that he was finally the President of _The Guild._

"You heard him. _Go"._

Yozora didn't need to be told twice. Hayato-kun waved him in as he held open the elevator doors of their student apartment building. Yozora tutted at him as he had yet to really forgive him for making him kiss the wall like that.

"We're all good! We're not gonna to be late now!".

He grinned a wide cheesy grin at Yozora and he allowed himself the first time this crazy morning to collapse on top of his standing luggage. He peeked out from behind his curtain of coal dark hair shielding his eyes at the smirking face of Tsurugi- _senpai_ leaning his huge and impressive form against the wall and Kasai- _senpai_ twirling their spare apartment key round his long finger with a _'don't bring back shame'_ look in his eyes behind his glinting spectacles.

Yozora fitted his headphones over his ear and quietly played a random track on shuffle from the 'Mystery Album' and prayed the taxi could beat the rush-hour traffic and get them up to the coaches waiting for them at _Tootsuki_ in time.

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* * *

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 _ **Tootsuki Resort - First Day**_

"Wow! This place is huge!".

Hayato-kun flung his arms up into the air and gasped at the majestic building looming over them in the brilliant sun. It was the famous _Tootsuki Resort._ Yozora slid his headphones off of his head, down to his neck. He'd only ever dreamed of stepping foot in this place. He'd had his fair share of expensive hotels, but nothing on the scale of the resort owned by the most powerful gourmet food artisan in Japan. They were now in the _Kanagawa Prefacture._ In the pamphlet, it said it overlooked _Ashi-no-ko,_ the scenic lake in the _Hakone Area_. Yozora had seen it on the way up the mountains as he had sleepily stared out of the bus window, listening to Yukihira's excitement mixed with his music.

"If you hadn't stuck your hand into the coach doors at the last second, you and Ginsekai would've missed all this, Mitsunaga".

Yukihira patted him on the shoulder and Yozora turned and looked at him, unblinking. He was correct. The taxi had made it up _Tootsuki's_ mountain side by the skin of its teeth. Yozora had thrown a wad of cash at the taxi driver, and he and Hayato-kun bolted up to the coach depot like a pair of clumsy Olympic champions at the start gun, travel bag and luggage clutched in their sweating palms skidding behind them. Adrenaline had fueled their panic and they had pelted in a full out sprint, their bags and luggage barely surviving its own trip. Hayato-kun had huffed and puffed beside him, not the most physically active person out of the both. The slapping nose of his shoes on the gravel overpowered the stampeding of his heart.

Yozora had almost died when he started to see the door of the last coach almost closing, closing on his dream but with one last ditched attempt, he managed to wedge his outstretched fingers into the shortening gap. The rubber insulator bounced back at the intrusion and the pneumatics of the doors hissed open and it was the most magical thing he'd ever heard. The bus driver was thoroughly unimpressed, but conceded and pushed the boys to the side so that he could open the storage compartment at the bottom of the coach and toss their bags in. Yozora had cared less about the taunts, ridicule, and yelling, and vicious scolding of their fellow students for making their coach late, than Hayato-kun did. He had always been great at tuning useless diatribe out and concentrated on had just kept concentrating on finding seats for himself and Hayato-kun. The glares and tuts clearly hurt Hayato-kun, so he let his gaze fall to his shoes with a tight grimace as he and Yozora had trudged down the bus aisle.

He had been about to lend Hayato-kun his wireless headphones to cover his ears and smother them in music, rather than the harmful insults thrown their way, however, the jubilant shout of greeting from a familiar voice stopped him short and his eyes snapped out to stare. He had met the comforting smile of the red head he encountered over a week ago made him feel at ease again.

It had been a long time since anyone had waved excitedly at Yozora and Hayato-kun to come sit with them.

"What do you think waits for us in the hotel?", asked a new acquaintance named Tadokoro Megumi.

The blue, pig headed young girl was as much in awe of the venue as Hayato-kun was. They stared with stars in their eyes. He knew her, but had never spoken to her until today, or the rest of the elusive Polar Star Dormitory for that matter. His circle of people was changing fast since meeting the infamous Yukihira Souma. Yozora guessed each room had a king-sized bed with pure white Egyptian cotton sheets, a desk and a thirty-six inch flat screen TV, a sprawling leather sofa, floor to ceiling windows, with its own private terrace. In the bathroom would be a power shower, bath big enough for a soccer team, and a Jacuzzi. Also, everything would be in marble and hand-crafted tiles. Yozora shuddered to think how much it costed for one night.

"Think of all the quests that will level me up!", shouted Hayato-kun.

" _…_ Eh _…_ Sorry?".

Yozora tuned the whole lot of them out again and re-covered his ears and let the music sharpen his focus. That was much better. He tapped Hayato-kun and signaled him to follow and hurry into the hotel, towards where the students were congregating through the large ornate doors with a frame-less glass poster that said _'Tootsuki Resort Hotel. Tootsuki Villa. Grand Ballroom',_ in three separate English cursive lines. Yozora was blown away. Everything about it said 'expensively built', inside and out. The marble floor was grandiose, sweeping into an expansive rectangle room with shards of light glittering from the impressive chandeliers which hung from the high ceiling. On the other end was a wide, dark stage with only a grand piano and a podium. The piano instantly reminded him of his childhood, a time long before before he became a student chef of Tootsuki.

' _This atmostphere…'._

He took off his headphones and realised there was barely any sound in this exquisite ballroom, yet everyone was moving. Moving and not talking. The air was so brittle, it could snap. A week ago, they were all saying that they were going to smash the training camp and they were going to pass all the assignments! Look at them now. The students fidgeted and paced back and forth. One wouldn't guess that this luxurious place would be the alter for a blood bath in the coming days as life-long dreams would be butchered and slaughtered without mercy.

He could be one of them.

"Hey, we're going to be okay".

Yozora felt a heavy pat on his back and looked the side to see the brilliant blue eyes of Hayato-kun. He smiled with just the right amount of comfort and the right touch of confidence, that unexpected warmth rush through him. Whenever Yozora's body felt like a cage, Hayato-kun unlocked him with only words, opened a door that he didn't know was there. Hayato-kun stood there beside him his freckled hand rubbing up and down his back, firm, reassuring and kind. For that reason alone, Yozora felt he could make it through.

"Remember what Kasai- _senpai_ said? It's all in here". Hayato-kun tapped his chest with a chuckle.

"I know. It's time to show everyone exactly what The Guild is made of".

"For hearth and home!".

Hayato raised his fist and Yozora-kun did the same. They bumped forearms together, their unique 'handshake' for when they were about to head into battle, because that was exactly what the training camp going to be. The first battle of their lives and in the name of _The Guild_. Yozora smirked and felt electricity zap through them. He was President of _The Guild_ now, _The Guild Master_ and Hayato-kun was his right-hand man. They had a huge _quest-line,_ and they weren't coming back without the loot.

" _May I have your attention please!"._

Yozora and Hayato-kun rested their arms back to their side and diverted their eyes to the main stage with the sleek, black grand piano. The wizened and aging figure of Chef Chapelle dominated the state with his short stature. His aquiline nose and eagle eyes harshly grazed over each student, but Yozora managed to continue to stare through their elderly chef. The light shining from the cathedral like windows bathed him in a holy light, making him look like an wizardly NPC who was about to recite them the backstory before getting to the specifics of a _quest-line._

" _I will now present to you an overview of the training camp. Today marks the beginning of the Friendship and Rapport Building Training Camp. It will last for six days and five nights. Each day will be a different assignment that in some ways will relate to the culinary arts. These assignments differ each year. Today, all students will be divided into twenty groups. Once this presentation is completed, each are to proceed to the designated area and join your group. Each instructor will set a baseline grade for each assignment. Any student who does not meet that criteria will fail. There are buses waiting on hand to send these students back to the institute immediately where they will be formally expelled"._

The dread crept over the sea of students like and icy chill, numbing the brain. In this frozen state of mind offered one thought. There was no avoiding it. Yozora felt like a cow being herded into a truck for the slaughterhouse. Only the cow doesn't know where it's going, but he did.

" _Speaking of your instructors, we have invited guest teachers to judge your work. Each has made time in their busy schedule to be here today. Please welcome the Tootsuki Academy Alumni"._

Shit just got real.

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* * *

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.

 ** _First Assignment_**

"That was a close call, man! Maybe waking up late was a blessing in disguise. That student uses the same brand of citrus shampoo and deodorant you use and he got expelled!"

Hayato-kun half-shouted and half-whispered amongst the bushes. Chef Shinomiya Kojirou was a beast. The way he just nonchalantly told a student to basically, get the fuck out of _Tootsuki_ for smelling fabulous without disturbing a strand of hair was frightening. Too stunned to refute the legendary chef's logic for taste and smell, all students just stood there gaping. But as soon as the student finally talked back, Chef Shinomiya's haughty countenance transformed into a man who had snapped his patience and had nothing to lose in continuing to decimate the hapless boy. Yozora had rightfully panicked as he used shampoo and deodorant that had a citrus note! He sniffed himself and was glad to find that he smelt like grass… he was wearing his unwashed uniform. He was going to suck as an adult. All the alumni were frightening in their own way. Even the most sweet, demure and soft-spoken Chef Inui Hinako who was unassuming and looked relaxed throughout was not taking anyone's bullshit when she gathered all her victims, including himself Hayato-kun, Yukihira and Tadokoro with her into the first assignment room.

' _She's nuts. They all are'. I reckon our instructor, Chef Inui, is the most psychotic of them all'._

Yozora mentally noted to switch his bathroom products to unscented ones. The whole time he felt icky for not taking his daily morning shower because of the bungle this morning, and now he thanked his lucky stars. He hoped Hayato-kun was smart enough not to rub it into Kasai- _senpai's_ face if or when they return from camp because that would be asking for washing up duty for a month. Oh wait… _he_ was President of The Guild now… Kasai- _senpai_ can't deal out punishment like that anymore. But for some reason he had a feeling that, that wouldn't stop Kasai- _senpai._

"Hey, and that Chef Doujima—".

" _Shoosh!_ You're gonna scare the quail away!".

Too late. The small, round prey scurried back into the bramble and Yozora dropped his arms.

"Whoops. Sorry".

"We're going to use _**Track 13**_ so at least loop it in your head first before we actually listen to it, so keep your mouth shut", he hissed

"Gotcha".

It had only been a few minutes ago when chef Inui listlessly sang the instructions as she enjoyed her crispy packet snack, Yozora and Hayato-kun immediately inserted in their Bluetooth wireless ear phones. They were made to fit securely in their ears and no amount of jumping, running, bumping could knock them out. Better yet, a few years ago, the owner of the gaming store knew someone who could reverse engineer and modify their earpieces so that they could link up with the same music playing device too, so that they could listen to the same thing and therefore be in sync or in each other's mind as it were. It became significantly handy when doing paired work together.

"Forget it, we'll catch fish instead. We haven't got a lot of time left so—".

 _BAM!_

Yozora and Hayato-kun sank into the bush and held their breaths. What the hell was that?! The echo reverberated throughout the enclosure, making most of the fauna scatter.

"Was that back-firing?", whispered Hayato-kun. "Like, from a pick-up truck?".

"I dunno know, but if it is, I think I have an idea", whispered back Yozora.

"But the assignment—".

" _Shhh!"._

Yozora didn't have time to explain. He just needed Hayato-kun to trust him on this. He snuck out of the foliage with his best friend crouched down and close behind. He followed his gut instinct and weaved through the bushes towards the noise. His cobalt eyes squinted and caught glimpses of rusted brown and battleship grey. They must be nearing the enclosure high fence. Chef Inui said they could use _any_ ingredients they found inside the enclosure… so they had to hurry before the window of opportunity disappeared.

"Just as I thought… maintenance men", smirked Yozora.

"Uh… so?".

"You're a level seventy-two blood elf rogue in _World of Warcraft_ and I'm a level sixteen rogue in _Dungeons and Dragons_ too. This'll work".

"Yeah, _in a game, genius!_ This is real life Yo-kun…".

"And I'm about to become a real-life _rogue"._

"Oh no… this won't be good".

Yozora somersaulted and snuck behind a tall tree. He pressed his back to it and tuned his ears. From the high intimidating fence comes hammering and a few choice swears. Yozora huffed and blew his fringe out of his eyes. The view told him that this part of the fence needed more work on. It was no more than an ugly skeleton of steel girders and prefabricated concrete slabs. It was surrounded by four large, thick, burly men in hard hats. There were two pick-up trucks and from the logo that was printed from the side and on the back window, they weren't employed _Tootsuki_ maintenance men.

"They're fixing the fence, but they don't belong to _Tootsuki_ Resort".

Yozora nodded. "They're contractors… which means… they carry their own lunch".

Hayato-kun narrowed his eyes and then they flew open.

 _"Kami-sama,_ you wouldn't…".

"Be my lookout".

Yozora made up his mind. They were going to steal from them. He stealthily emerged from the thick bushes and approached the first pick-up truck. The men were all over the fence working away and telling each other crude jokes as they raucously laughed. They hardly noticed the lanky first year student crab-walking towards the tailgate of one of their work vehicles. Yozora made and placed his hands over the rim. He carefully straightened his knees and peeked over the back. The first thing he spied were large, red, metal toolboxes, stacks of planks of wood, rolls of metal wire and mesh, short steel beams, a foldable ladder, cannisters, plastic bottles of chemicals, and a bunch of other things. So far so good, the men were still busy concentrating on fixing the fence and telling each other misogynistic jokes. He kept an ear out for their conversation, specifically for signs if they needed to go back for something in their pick-up trucks.

"Yo-kun, I'll get you up".

Awww… he knew Hayato-kun would come around and get into the role-play. His best friend laced his fingers together and signalled for Yozora to place his foot on them. He counted down from three and then gave him a helpful push so that the black-haired thief lifted himself clear over the tailgate and landed with a soft metallic thud. He paused. Good, they didn't notice that either. He quickly opened the first couple of boxes and inspected the contents. Nothing, just tools, knuts, bolts nails and screws. The lightbulb went off.

' _Gah! I'm such an idiot!'._

He shook his head and tutted to himself. He quickly crawled closer to the front and peeked through the back window. Duh! Who keeps their lunch out in the back? Of course, those tradies would keep it with them safe in the passenger's seat of the truck. Their were two cooler bags, one was red and the other blue. Both were about the size of two _bentou_ boxes stacked together. Yozora clucked his tongue in annoyance.

"Did you find anything?", Hayato-kun whispered. A quick peak in the side mirror told him that his guild-member was keeping an eye out for him.

"Yeah… the _bentou-boxes_ are _in_ the pick-up not out back here".

 _"Are you shitting me_ _?!"._

While Hayato-kun was quietly spluttering, Yozora racked his brain for answers. His eyes scanned around, almost melting the window which kept him from his prize. There! The key was still in the ignition! Yes! He clamoured off the pick-up truck as quietly as he could. He neared the passenger side of the truck and steadied his hand. He pulled the door and it sounded like a gunshot to him but the lack of shouting and stampeding of big, strong, tradesman sent a shot of dopamine from relief. They were still preoccupied and busy… for now.

Yozora pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and reached inside to finally nab the cooler-bags. They were not too heavy. Their was a clinking sound in the red cooler bag and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He took a chance and unzipped it, and to his utter shock and surprise he found…

' _Score!'._

Fucking ace. They've hit the jackpot. He quickly zipped it back up and decided to open the blue cooler bag later. When Yozora was about to leave, he spotted something else near the bottom of the passenger seat. Ah! A thermos! Must be some sort of hot drink in there. He took that too.

"Hurry, one of them is heading over here", hissed Hayato-kun.

"On it".

Yozora decided against closing the door and just left it slightly ajar as to not alert that one of them had just been robbed with the tell-tale sound of closing car doors. Yozora scrambled around the side and grabbed Hayato-kun on the way and dragged him back. The two boys ran hand in hand and dived into the nearest bush. They crashed head first into the undergrowth, scaring away a few birds pecking for worms.

" _One of you idiots left the truck door open! The animals could've gotten in!",_ yelled the tradesman.

Phew they got out of there just in time. The tradesman cursed and slammed it closed, not bothering to check if there was anything missing from the inside. Yozora peeked out from behind the tree. The man went around the back, snorted and spat onto the ground and to Yozora's disgust, he reached behind and scratched _right up the arse-crack._ Wow. That image is now burned into his brain for all of eternity.

" _Kami-sama… Yo-kun…?"._

" _What?",_ he whispered back, eyes not leaving the tradesman.

" _Huge. Fucking. SPIDER"._

Yozora jerked from his position and spun his head around. _Shit!_ There it was in all its glory. It was twice as large as any spider he'd ever seen! The furry spawn of _Jigoku_ had found purchase on Hayato-kun's shoulder whose mouth was poised in a silent scream. This forest enclosure was a nightmare. It was so large in fact that he could see the eight, fucking eyes shining like blackened pin-heads and its mandibles clicked. White Yozora was short-circuiting, Hayato-kun was about to scream for real.

He thought fast and slapped his hand across his best friend's mouth.

" _Geh hi ohhph heee!",_ Hayato-kun cry was muffled against his palm. Too bad it wasn't quite enough.

" _Who's there!"._

The boys froze and ice dripped down their back. Fuck. They were so fucked. Yozora felt the panic in his chest like a cluster of spark-plugs, his mind replaying all the things that could possible go wrong from his daring and reckless stunt. His breathing became more rapid, shallower. He and Hayato-kun were curled tightly together against the back of the tree, their only movements were trembling limbs and the spider, sauntering across Hayato-kun's chest. On the other side was the huge adult man with fingers that probably smelt like arse who might choke them to death for stealing from his pick-up truck. Yozora's sharp eyes scanned the forest, looking for something, _anything_ that could serve as a distraction the panic grew. Heavy crunching of twigs drawing closer and closer like their doom alerted him that the tradie was starting to venture into the bush to find the source of Hayato-kun's pitiful cry. He was going to be seconds away…

 _Cluck… Cluck… Cluck…_

Huh? Yozora zeroed in onto the familiar sound. Chickens! A few metres away, the obese, brown feathered birds cocked their heads back and forth as they strutted and scratched at the forest floor, looking for tasty insects and worms. Yozora had another idea. He carefully placed the two cooler bags down next to him and used his other hand to grab the nearest stick. Hayato-kun's fearful eyes begged him not to do anything stupid, but he really had no choice now. It was now or never.

He threw the stick at the chickens.

 _"BUCK! BUCK-AAHHH! CLUCK CLUCK CLUCK-AAHHH"._

As expected they erupted into a flurry of feathers with a cacophony of wild screeches and squawks. Their wings went hay-wire, and the plump poultry bumped and bounced into each other and finally as a flock, bolted out of the bush, their talons kicking up dust and dirt,heading in the direction of the unfinished fence.

" _What the-!"._

The tradie stopped dead where he was, probably about two metres out. Yozora's heart was hammering in his chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for his skin. He tried his best to still his gasps.

" _Urgh… just some fucking chickens…",_ the man grunted in dismissal. _"Let's hurry up lads! Those Tootsuki students have probably started their assignment in this enclosure. We need to finish this section and get out of here, quick! We should've been done ages ago!"._ Yozora relaxed as soon as he could hear the crunching of leaves and twigs head in the opposite direction, away from them.

" _Yo-huuuunnmm"._

The vibration on his sweating palm pulled him back to Hayato-kun and he was once again greeted by first eight unblinking problems at hand. Crap! The spider! His gaze met with Hayato-kun staring at him, pleading and begging through those blue watery eyes to do something. Yozora snatched up another stick. With one well-aimed swing, he casted the spider off into the distance, hopefully never to be seen again. Hayato-kun ripped Yozora's hand from his lips and sucked in fresh air. He sobbed in relief and sank into the ground. The large tradesman had finished getting whatever he wanted from the back of the pick-up truck with so much ruckus. _Kami-sama…_ he swiped his ass-crack again. He shook his head and concentrated on getting the fuck back to the kitchens. Yozora snatched the cooler bags off the ground and swung it over his shoulders. He grabbed Hayato-kun's hand and dragged him forward, they could calm down later.

"Come on, let's go!".

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* * *

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Souma hadn't seen Mitsunaga or Ginsekai for quite some time. He wasn't worried before but now he was. All the students were back already and have already finished cooking. One after another, they presented similar Japanese dishes, grilled fish, steamed fish, fried, fish and an assortment of vegetable side dishes from the students that knew how to forage for the right vegetables. Time was ticking and there was forty-five minutes until the finish time.

"Hmm… one pair is left. They haven't come back yet?", asked Chef Inui, calmly drinking the last sip of her tea.

"Don't worry chef. They'll show up, and trust me". Souma smirked. "They'll serve you up something _good_ ".

"You think so highly of them Yukihira? Don't forget that _I'm_ your one true rival! Just because your Yukihira-Style _kaki-no-tane-age_ with creamy _ki-no-me_ sauce and my spicy roast duck with Japanese style _salsa verde_ was a draw, it doesn't mean that you can set your sights on others when this isn't over yet!".

Didn't this guy ever relax?

Takumi Aldini, a new player in this _Tootsuki_ chessboard. Souma found him highly amusing. From the way he was jumping up and down having a temper-tantrum, his chess piece would be a knight. The half-Japanese, half-Italian chef and his brother were two others he could definitely give his respects to. They had the hands of real chefs, like him. Chef who knew their way around the kitchen their whole lives. They were chefs who actually brought something to the table. They were obsessive hard workers like he was and Souma felt a kindred spirit with them. Takumi was a handsome fellow who could easily get the girls swooning, but he wasn't just a pretty face. He was exceptionally skilled (so he says) in the Italian cuisine and Souma figured he could probably pick up a few tips or so some in the future from the tense, bristling, ball of yelling and screaming nonsensical fury who was being dragged away by his rounder and more placid younger twin to cool off.

"The last dish I've had was abysmal, so I hope the last pair will have something decent for me. They don't have long left so we might as well –".

"MADE IT!".

Megumi shrieked in surprised and backed into Souma like a spooked horse. He caught her and steadied her quaking form. He looked up, so happy to finally see his new friends but his face fell. Dirt was literally smeared across their cheeks! Mitsunaga's blue neckerchief was lopsided and half-undone, his once perfectly white chef's uniform was caked with leaves, but at least one couldn't really see much on his brown waist-apron as it was the same colour as dirt. His black hair was ruffled, but otherwise, looked typically the same as when he first met him. Ginsekai looked like he came out of a zombie apocalypse horror movie! His hair was stuck up all over the place, not like the sad mop of blonde hair from before when he was complaining about not having time to gel his hair to get that spiky look. It looked like something so frightening made his hair rise up on his own, enough to eliminate the need for hair gel.

"M-Mitsunaga-kun! G-Ginsekai-kun! You're back! B-But where are your ingredients?", stuttered Megumi.

 _Kami-sama,_ she was right. They weren't carrying a basket of anything like anyone else, only a bucket and two… cooler bags. What the heck?

"Right here. Forty-minutes left, yeah? Ready, Yo-kun?". Ginsekai flashed an excited cheesy grin despite looking like he he tumbled over multiple hills.

" _ **Track 13.**_ Here we go".

"Hey guys! Put it on speakers!" Souma yelled at them.

This morning on the bus, they told him about the nifty dual wireless blue-tooth earphone-thingies they had which fitted right in their ears without falling out no matter how much jostling. Jeez, technology these days. They also explained that, that meant Mitsunaga had to strap his smart phone using the smartphone case with velcro straps joggers used to listen to music around his upper arm so that he could change songs on the fly while he was cooking, without looking if he wanted to. All he had to do was loop the song and return it to lock screen.

"Pftt… it's the stupid Gamer's RS. _Otakus._ They are such a joke", scoffed one of the students who passed by.

Souma wanted to correct them and say they were called ' _The Guild'_ and that they were _not_ a joke, but elected to ignore them and kept up his encouraging smile. The two boys paused in preparing their utensils and stuff in the cooler-bags and then looked at each other, both at first, slightly nervous. Grins slowly started to form on their faces. Suddenly Mitsunaga ripped his smartphone off his upper arm and ran over to get a cup from the back while Ginsekai continued to prep their things. Of course, they knew what they were already going to make. The dark-haired, soft-spoken teen took out a plastic cup and turned it on its side between a pair of salt and pepper shakers. He placed the speaker end of his phone to the mouth of the cup and with just one tap of the screen, music erupted across the kitchens.

"W-What the hell is this?", said another student.

Mitsunaga ran back and just like that everyone had their attention on the pair of Guild students who who immediately fell into sync like a pair of pianist hands. Souma nodded his head and felt his blood coursing to another battle theme. It was instrumental but also has synths and rock mixed in it which gave it a real edge. It was fast right off the bat. Oh boy, it was just as exciting as the first battle theme he listened to when he stumbled upon their cook-off, PVP, whatever they called it. The red head could feel the tension, adrenaline and the excitement burst from each fluid motion of the dark-haired teen and his blonde friend, this was where their skills shone, where their hearts were wide open as he had come to learn from watching them the first time. Their cooperative movements were so rhythmic and captivating, just like the music. Watching them cook fired him up!

"Music? Why music?", asked Chef Inui.

"No rules against playing a little music, right Chef Inui?", Souma grinned.

"I suppose not… since everyone else has finished, and what's in those two bags? I had not authorised for cooler bags as part of packing equipment for this assignment".

She lifted herself off her seat and scooted closer, her brows were pinched in confusion but Souma could tell she was intrigued and mystified by this addition of highly intense music and the elegant and equally intense flourishes of the two last remaining boys. She hitched up her kimono and crept to the side and pulled the abandoned blue cooler bag towards her. Souma leaned over her shoulder to see what she found.

"A note…", murmured chef Inui.

Souma craned his neck and read the note over her shoulder.

* * *

 _Darling,_

 _The next time you come home drunk  
and stinking of cigarettes,  
I will pack you dog-food for lunch  
For now, you'll have plain white rice.  
The doctor says you have high cholesterol  
anyway._

 _From your loving wife,  
_ _Michiko._

* * *

' _Ouch… Not even soya-sauce?'._

Note to self, if he ever got married, never come home drunk smelling like cigarettes. Souma tilted his head and fitted the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together in his noggin.

"Hey, this is someone's packed lunch. Even if it's not much of a lunch". commented Souma.

"Yeah, we stole it!", Ginsekai laughed from his side of the kitchen station.

"Eh?! But that's cheating! You can't do that, you have to use ingredients found _inside_ the woods and the river of the enclosure, not outside!" yelled one student.

"Nah-uh! We didn't use any _cheat-codes"_.

"Oh dear. Mitsunaga-kun… Ginsekai-kun… you have some explaining to do", clipped Chef Inui.

The pounding drums and the quick swipes of the violins and drums resonated across the room, without them all realising, the students were getting into the mood, transfixed and mystified by the two _otaku_ students they had scorned and ridiculed to begin with. Souma smirked. They will get their just desserts. If there was one thing he knew about people like himself, Mitsunaga and Ginsekai…

… _never_ underestimate the dreamers.

… _never_ look down on the different.

… _always_ be prepared for anything.

"We'll tell you _after_ you have judged us, Chef Inui", Mitsunaga cut in before Ginsekai could.

The blonde clamped his mouth shut and got on with their fierce cooking show.

"As you wish. Now, you are frying fish… you have cooked white rice and… is that a thermos of tea?". chef Inui leaned over.

Yep it was, between the smell of the frying river fish on one side, and the careful simmering of _dashi_ stock in the other, Souma could smell the distinct aroma of _Kyoto-style_ roasted rice grain green tea. It was distinct to him because that was the only tea Polar Star Dorms kept stock of. Fumio-san was obsessed with this type of tea. Looking at the ingredients, Souma analysed what they could be making…

… dashi stock.

… plain cooked rice.

… roasted rice grain green tea.

… fried seasoned river fish.

… wild Japanese greens.

… eggs.

… salt, pepper, and flour from the seasoning cupboard.

Souma had a bit of an idea, but didn't want to assume, especially when they hadn't taken anything out of the _red_ cooler bag yet. So he waited, his heart leaping against his chest and his head nodding in tandem to the sick beats. He looked around and he could see that all the other students held their breath, sweat beading from their foreheads. They were getting immersed. Even Takumi shut his trap so that he could intently observe and analyse these first-year students. It was a performance, a concert. At the same time, it was like Mitsunaga and Ginsekai were so well known for the wrong reasons. They told him most people called them _Otakus_ and laughed at them, never taking them seriously _._ He thought it was unjust. It was like none of these other uppity students had ever watched them cook whilst listening to the same music that inspired their cooking and just judged them without getting to know their artistic styles.

Souma shook his head. Who was laughing now, except him at the sheer irony.

Mitsunaga finished his task in making some sort of batter and grabbed the red cooler bag. Souma leaned in and held his breath too. So, what was the last mystery ingredient? The climax of the piece sent his anticipation higher and higher. Mitsunaga reached in and pulled out.

A bottle of beer.

"…"

"…"

"…"

" _ARE YOU GUYS FOR REAL?!",_ The group roared.

The redhead's eyes fell out his sockets. He couldn't help it, he just busted out laughing and he thought his appendix had burst. These boys were just _fucking_ incredible. It was a bottle of _Sapporo!_ How lucky was he to have met them? The rest of the class fell over from shock, including Megumi, and Chef Inui looked more interested than ever. Souma was willing to bet money that his and Megumi's and the Aldini brother's impressive dishes were obliterated from her memory.

"You boys have some _serious_ explaining~", chittered Chef Inui against the music.

Mitsunaga and Ginsekai started to wind down their movements. The dark-haired teen poured a smidgen of beer into the batter he was making with the egg, flour, salt and pepper. Shit! He was making _beer-batter!_ For the fried fish. They fried the fish with the available seasonings from the sad excuse of a stock cupboard, and now they were going to make _beer-batter tempura._ Their pacing evened out as the song started to finish its loop. It still amazed Souma in how they could keep in syncopation with themselves, each other and the music so that it ended in the right note. The two boys began to finish.

Souma watched them arrange and pull all their ingredients together for the perfect Japanese style dish.

Finally, the song came to its close.

"Finished! _**Beer-battered river fish ochazuke**_ _"._

The group gasped. The simple ubiquitous bowl of steaming rice, topped with the crispiest looking fish pieces sat on top like Noah's Arc on Mount Sinai. The red and black dots of the spicy seasoning made the texture look freckly and festive in a subtle way. On the presenting tray, Ginsekai poured the delicate _dashi_ stock and the green tea from the thermos into a tea-pot and placed it just so beside the glistening bowl of fish and rice, waiting to be poured. _Ochazuke._ It was a simple rice dish which combined _ocha,_ steamed rice and an assortment of savoury ingredients. The Japanese enjoy this dish more as a quick meal to fill up instead of a proper mealtime food. For Souma, _ochazuke_ was one of his favourite comfort food. It was a perfect amount of food for a midnight snack when he had middle school exams. The warm rice and tea _Oyaji_ made for him had been well-received by his exhausted body and tasting it immediately comforted his study-anxieties. Souma usually made _ochazuke_ when his fridge was running on almost empty. The ingredients for _ochazuke_ were pretty common in the Japanese pantry too and so one wouldn't need to do any shopping to make this simple, quaint dish.

"Chef Inui", Mitsunaga began, "may I?" He extended his hand towards the steaming tea pot and bowed.

"Go on then". She nodded at him.

Mitsunaga lifted the teapot with both hands and poured out the steaming, fragrant liquid with military precision. With _gamers'_ hands, as Souma liked to think. The shining clear, caramel coloured liquid surrounded the small mountain of rice. Mitsunaga placed the tea pot back and stepped backwards.

"You boys have put on quite an impressive show. Let's see if your dish lives up to the same standard. Then I shall dig in. _Itadakimasu!"._

Chef Inui took the first bite.

"Hmmphff-!". Her face twisted in pleasurable agony.

"Oh my goodness! The beer batter coating around the fish was just so crispy and light! There is a beautiful crunch and texture there. You have been meticulous to double the _tempura_ and the beer has beautifully aerated it to give this heavenly crunch. The river fish has such an intense and fresh flavour! With the limited seasonings provided for you, I'm amazed that you could bring out such strong and deep flavours. The beer batter coating insulates all the sweet flavours of the fish and the strength of the spices, which marry each other. The dashi was simmered to perfection and the earthy notes of the fragrant tea blends well with the _dashi._ I can tell that you have carefully balanced the strong, yet delicate flavours. It really ties the flavours of the fish, the rice altogether wonderfully. Is this roasted rice grain tea from Kyoto?".

"We might have to ask the tradesman to find out", said Mitsunaga.

"It tastes like it is. Ahhhh~ This reminds me of my childhood home when _Okaa-sama_ used to make _ochazuke_ for me on winter mornings after our ferocious, rough and tumble snowball fights with my brothers and cousins in our family _Hokkaidou_ Villa. Well, I have made my decision".

"Yeah? Yeah?", Ginsekai leapt up like an over-excited puppy.

She placed down her empty bowl and placed her chopstick precisely over the rims in the middle. She shuffled her legs until they were closed together and her chef's apron flowed down without a wrinkle. The famous head chef of _Kirinoya Japanese Restaurant_ folded her hands over her lap like lordly lady and tilted her chin. Her straight dark chocolate hair laid elegantly against her shoulders as she offered a soft, demure smile.

"You are going to tell me _how_ you procured those ingredients first".

The temperature plummeted several degrees. Souma felt like shrinking. Despite the closed eye and pleasant smile, the aura behind her said she was _'hella pissed'_ or she was _'hella enjoying watching them squirm'_ , it was hard to tell.

"Uh-Um… we found some tradies working on a broken part of the fence of the enclosure on the far side… Well, you said that we could use ingredients found _inside…_ and their trucks were _inside_ so… Yo-kun did a _stealth check_ and he got a fifteen which was a good start. Snuck up when the tradies were busy. Couldn't find anything in the back of the pick-up truck, but he did in the car seat up front. Then he did a _sleight of hand check_ and rolled a twelve, I'd say. Do you think it's twelve, Yo-kun?".

"…".

"Yeah, it was a twelve. Anyway, found the loot, got out of there, but one of the tradies was coming back to the truck so we had to high-tail it. We hid in some bush and then this GIGANTIC SPIDER landed on me! I think we rolled a two for _stealth_ this time because this tradie heard me starting to lose my mind and I think he had a pretty high _perception score_ because he was coming for our direction, I didn't think we needed to roll for _constitution checks_ but we did anyway, _that_ was a real twenty. We held our breath until I could see _Obaa-san's_ ghost because I wasn't going to let that dino-spider eat me or let the tradie find us. But Yo-kun was quick thinking, kissed the dice and his _wisdom check_ was another twenty! He scared some chickens to distract the tradie and it worked a treat, then rescued me from the dino-spider. The rest was history!".

"…"

"…"

"…"

"My… that… was a riveting… tale". Chef Inui and the rest of the group were particularly non-plussed, which Souma didn't blame them for.

"We just took rice and beer from the pick-up trucks belonging to the tradesman who were fixing the fence from inside the enclosure, working only within your rules and criteria Chef Inui. Oh and… there was no actual _dice-rolling_ ". Mitsunaga elbowed his friend who was chuckling.

"Hmm, Yukihira Souma did _steal_ my snack to create his dish". Chef Inui pondered aloud.

Souma felt all eyes go to him again, especially from the blonde Aldini.

"Your resourcefulness was uncanny and surpassed all the lateral thinking skills of any student I had examined over the years. You kept your mind open and looked at all possibilities. Your dish was divine as well! You two pass!".

"For the win!".

"For the win!".

Mitsunaga and Ginsekai crossed their forearms together and were sporting the biggest grins on their face. Souma whooped and cheered along with them while the rest of the group were stunned mullets.

"Now let's see if there is any more beer left in that cooler bag~".

 _Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Chef Inui managed to pull out a second bottle of chilled _Sapporo_ much to the students' shock. Was she really going to take it and drink it?! But suddenly the ringing in her apron pockets made her reluctantly retract her hand. She pulled out her phone and clicked to answer with a small whine.

"Goodness, what is it? I'm in the middle of getting—".

" _WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HINAKO?! YOUR GROUP IS LATE! QUIT SCREWING AROUND AND GET BACK TO THE HOTEL, IMBECILE!"._

Chef Shinomiya's yelling through the phone was louder than Mitsunaga's makeshift speaker with the plastic cup.

"I-I'm so sorry Chef Shinomiya! Everyone! We must hurry back to the hotel right now! OH! But not without the beer~".

"HUH?! WHAT BEER?! ARE YOU DRIN—"

Chef Inui hung up without a thought, and grabbed the bottle as if it was hers and dashed off yelling at everyone to follow her back to the buses and fill it from the front to the back. Souma, Mitsunaga, Ginsekai, Megumi and the Aldini brothers just stood there… taking it all in… but not really. The younger Italian brother was the first to recover.

"That was _fantastico…_ the way the music complimented the cooking methods".

Souma watched as Takumi Aldini and Isami Aldini approached the pair of ear-piece wearing brothers-in-arms and spoke to them with amazement and reverence.

"And taste too", added Ginsekai.

"Taste? How does music compliment taste?".

"One day we'll show you again, would you like that?".

"I would be honoured", smiled Takumi. He stuck out his hand and Ginsekai shook it heartily.

Mitsunaga was doing that thing again where he wasn't blinking and it seemed to freak out the blonde Aldini pretty quickly as he averted his eyes and turned into a blubbering mess.

"I've heard the rumours about you too, but don't worry! We don't believe in rumours. I regret that I've never introduced myself properly. I'm Isami Aldini and I really like your cooking style. You are part of the Gamer's RS right? That's what everyone says".

"It's called _The Guild_ now" said Mitsunaga in a quiet voice.

"These guys are the _bomb._ We better watch out, they've got _huge_ hearts in there and are not afraid to show it". Souma laughed, poking Mitsunaga in the chest.

Big mistake. He was now victim to the dark-haired teen's soul-sucking stare. The group of them filed out of the assignment room, lagging at the back of the entire group as they chatted and bantered merrily and Souma found himself being educated on _Dungeons and Dragons._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

.

.

.

 ** _Tootsuki Resort - First Night_**

"Hmm~ Hmmm~ Hmmm~".

Erina was feeling refreshed and lively after a long soak in the mineral _onsen._ This camp was nothing to her. She couldn't see what was so hellish about it. All she had to do was just wait out five more days and just treat it like a holiday. Her first assignment was nothing to really comment about. Piddly and boring like all the other challenges were going to be. She was in Chef Mizuhara's group today. She knocked that one out of the ball park. After that, was making fifty-servings for the _Bicep College Body-Building Club_ who were participating in their own camp at a nearby hotel, the college's _American Football Club_ and the _Wrestling Club._ Child's play. Which was why she being the first to finish and enjoy the all-females _onsen_ with the special minerals in the open summer air.

She killed it like a Queen.

Erina closed her eyes and hummed her made-up tune as she skipped along the plush corridor, on her way back to hers and Hisako's room. She had gone to rustle up some card games for them! In the distance there were crickets chirping and pond frogs croaking, but not enough to disturb her. She drew in a lungful of woodland air. She let the sounds of the nightingale fill her ears instead of her thoughts.

Erina turned the corner and then continued to make up her tune. She opened her eyes and she saw there was nobody else on the boardwalk, except a person leaning against the railing, facing out into the night, except he was reading a book. She could tell it was a male due to the male style _yukata_ supplied by the hotel and the matching _haori_ draped over his shoulders. Erina paused at the corner. The greenery was already charcoal and the garden footpath melted into the night.

The more she stared at the guy, she realised the person was wearing earphones.

It was Mitsunaga Yozora.

Erina gulped and her breath hitched. She felt her cheeks slowly heat up and her heart started to thud as if she was back in the _onsen,_ but submerged in the hot water for too long. The cool night air made her shiver. If she just walked surreptitious pass his back him, he wouldn't even notice, would he? He was listening to music and reading at the same time after all. The boardwalk lights were so dim, but Mitsunaga standing there, how could he even see the print? She hadn't thought about Mitsunaga for one whole day until now and she realised how much he'd been on her mind since crash-landing onto him that day in the bush. She was still embarrassed! She had never been that close to a boy before… She pursed her petal pink lips and clutched her toiletry bag. Erina resolved to walk quickly, her softened _geta_ sandals moved quietly against the wood until she stepped on dead leaf blown in from the warm night breeze. The golden-haired student held her breath, hoping she wasn't noticed. She didn't want to stare, but her violet eyes kept flicking to the tall boy, so still and so absorbed in his reading. His black hair blended into the night, it was almost impossible to see if he had straight or textured hair from the back.

Erina fixed her posture and looked dead ahead, taking another step forward–

"Nakiri?".

' _Gah!'._

Erina's spine snapped to attention and she stiffly turned towards the student who, apart from Hisako, had ever seen her in a _compromising_ position. He straightened his back and turned around to face her quickly, as if he was surprised she was here. Erina nodded her head stiffly, not letting him see how she shivered beneath her _yukata_ and _haori._ Her mask fell into place with a click, she allowed her cold eyes challenge him.

"M-Mitsunaga", she replied curtly, but internally smacked herself for croaking her voice.

"I thought it might be you. I was right".

Erina scrunched her nose delicately. "What made you think so?".

"I heard a crunching leaf. Thought of you instantly".

Erina's composure broke and she gaped at him, all red faced.

"I-I thought you were never going to mention that _incident_ again!", she yelled.

Mitsunaga seemed to reel back onto the back of the railing, his eyes widened in shock and Erina was amazed to see how deep eyes were. His pupils shrunk back and his iris were made of rich cobalt. She snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed that she let her emotions get the best of her. The breeze welcomed itself in and caressed her cheeks, it brought a green, leafy scent along with it and a earthy rain. She instantly careened into the past a few weeks ago when she had pressed herself so closely the student that was standing before her in the bushes amongst the grass the leaves. Erina realised that the breeze was carrying _his_ scent to her, thus evoking that powerful memory.

"Ahh… sorry…".

He looked away, his eyes twitching and flickering as he sought to look at something else. His high cheekbones were painted a soft pink hue which darkened and spreaded like watery ink on expensive calligraphy paper down his neck and across his prominent collarbone. He cleared his throat and his hand reached up to scratch his head, which she could now see was textured, just like that day she had crashed into his nap. It appeared their dangerously close proximity had affected him also. Erina felt a smidge better that she wasn't the only one embarrassed.

"Doesn't matter. Just… really, don't mention it again to me", Erina snorted.

"Got it", he muttered.

Then the awkward silence came. Erina's desire to return to her room fell away like melting show and she had no wish face the masses of students who by now should be rampaging up and down the floors to get to the indoor baths or outdoor _onsen._ She tried to fill the silence.

"What are you reading?". She jerked her chin towards the thin book in his hand.

Mitsunaga blinked. _Kami-sama,_ was that the first time she saw him blink? She swore it was! She didn't think more on it as he stared down at his hand. He coughed into his other fist as the pinkness on his face darkened further.

"Umm… it's just my old recipe book. I listen to music", he pointed to his earphones still in his ears, "and I come up with recipes. This is an old one. I'm just taking a trip down memory lane".

As soon as Erina heard 'recipe' and 'music', she internally rolled her eyes. How could she forget? He was one of the weirdos in The Guild and if memory serves, he was now the President on his RS. She narrowed her eyes at the book. Being inspired my music to create recipe was still codswallop to her. There was no room nor time for such sentimentality in cooking when it's all about the taste and making the customers desire and lust for her food.

"Do you… wanna have a look?".

Erina snapped her eyes to his. Uh oh. She was instantly mesmerised by the swirling glaciers of blue. They crinkled at the corners as a light smile cracked upon his lips. His intent gaze enveloped hers and pulled her feet towards him. Erina scoffed but she would humour him. She was going to just flick through the pages quickly and tell him how boring or ridiculous his recipes were. She sighed dramatically and took the book, a bit roughly from his hand and began to flick with boredom tinging her attitude.

She stopped at a random page.

" _Aerith's Theme?",_ she asked him, intending to sound like mocking.

His only response was stepping closer. His rainwater and earthy scent washed over her. There was something missing from his scent and she realised that the citrusy note that caught her attention was heavily muted. He tugged out one earphone and pressed it into her ear.

"Hey-!".

"This is _Aerith's Theme",_ he cut her off.

 _Kami-sama_ this was so wrong on so many levels! The small white earphone was still warm from sitting inside _his_ ear and it made her feel severely shook for just a second and incredulous. However, the soft and sweet melody of a lone piano instantly stilled her hissing thoughts. As Erina let one by one, the piano, violin, harp, and flute wash over her, she felt all her tension melt. She looked down at the recipe on the page marked as _Aerith's Theme_. It was a **Strawberry Coffee Meringue dessert with elderberry coulis**. There was a bittersweet purity and innocence cradled in the notes. The strong melody at the beginning was subtley transformed in different ways thoughout the music and the soft and gentle tones slowed her breathing to a steady quiet. She could taste the sweetness of the strawberries, the bitterness of the coffee and the light sweetness of the Meringue personify into a fresh faced, smiling girl full of purity and innocence, sitting in a field of ethereal flowers. The flavours she envisaged, along with the melody was soft and flowing. The swell of the melody as the orchestra came together suddenly fell as it stopped at once, giving way to that same lone, sweet piano that captured her attention. The lingering taste of strawberry, elderberries, coffee and meringue dancing on her tongue.

' _What…? Is this feeling…?'._

She lifted her head, about to ask him what this was all about, but stopped short when his face was so close to hers. His piercing eyes were only for the recipe on the page and Erina had the chance to look at him up close. There were imperceptible flecks of grey in his eyes. Her chest felt hot and her throat felt parched. Her stomach churned in a guilty way, as the warmth of his body penetrated her, making her want to wriggle closer to escape a bit from the quickly chilling night air, but restrained herself for propriety's sake.

" _Hey Yo-kun! Where you at?!"._

"Kyaa!".

Erina shot up and her arms flung into the air. What happened next should've belong onto a comedy show she used to stay up late and she watched with alarm as everything played on in slow motion. The book slipped out of her fingers and was sent sailing into the air. Her eyes tracked its movements as it arced and flipped, it's trajectory destined for the moist dark green grass at the bottom of the boardwalk. She instinctively reached out to grab it and leaned her body over the railing.

"Watch out!".

"Nggghh AH!".

She felt something like a boa constrictor coil around her stomach and roughly pulled her back by the middle. Her breast collide against the warm body beside her, the hard planes bone and flesh firm against a bracing hand. She was pressed against Mitsunaga again! Why the hell did this keep happening?! The opening of his _yukata_ loosened and fell away revealing the creamy white and pink skin beneath as he thrusted his other arm out. Erina pushed back to see what would become of the book and saw that the dark-haired President of The Guild had caught it by the back cover before it fell into the darkness below. Suddenly she was twisted around and his other arm joined her waist until she was fully enveloped into Mitsunaga. Erina gasped as she felt herself drag down and landed with a soft _oomph!_ Onto the side of her rump as her legs sprawled out to the side from between the folds of her _yukata_ , nestled between Mitsunaga's legs with his arms now draped loosely around the curve of her waist.

"Thank goodness".

His forehead bumped onto the side of her cranium.

"Uhhh… hey, I was looking for you 'cause I wanted to ask you something about _**Track 13**_ , b-but you know what? Not important! It can wait".

Erina ripped herself away and scampered out from between Mitsunaga's long legs. She hurriedly pulled her _yukata_ together and squeezed her thighs shut. For the second time in her life, Nakiri Erina was mortified, frozen to the spot. She felt traumatized. She couldn't believe it had happened again, and this time in front of a witness too! She sat their soaking in the cruel situation, her head beginning to spin. She'd never live this down as long as she'd live. Trips to _onsens_ would be reminding her of this for her whole life. The awkward blonde boy with big freckly hands switched one foot with the other. in embarrassment He was flushed redder than a tomato, clearly misinterpreting the situation!

"…Hayato…".

Mitsunaga growled.

"So uh… nice to see you N-Nakiri-san, Ah! Looking good by the way… Umm… th-the night is still young so… carry-on! See you later, Yo-kun!".

The blonde haired weirdo dashed away and Erina was left horrified and utterly humiliated. She exploded and pounced for her fallen toiletry bag. She got up and rounded on Mitsunaga who was still slumped against the railing with his _stupid_ recipe book in his lap. When he finally found his feet, she suddenly burst out at him like a golden tornado.

"MITSUNAGA YOZORA! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!".

She lunged for his throat and they both fell over the railing together, into the wet grass below.

* * *

 **HAHAHAHAHA! I had so much making Erina's life hell. Yukihira right now is just a small blip on her radar, the bane of her existence right now is getting caught up with Yozora in unflattering circumstances.**

 **Hey Hayato-kun, I think your geek is showing and chef Inui doesn't want to know about it...**

 **Now The Aldini brothers get a bit of a treat from The Guild and looks like Hayato, Yozora, Takumi and Isami are hitting it off pretty well :)**

 **Let me know what you guys thing and I'll see you next time!**

 **Signing-off**

 **TripWire-dono**


	4. Wanderlust

_Chapter 4 - Wanderlust_

* * *

' _I can't believe I had to cancel an important appointment for this…'._

It wasn't easy to get under his skin nor was it easy to put him in a bad mood.

However, it seemed today the stars were out of alignment for him.

Doujima Gin was _not_ happy.

The tall man released a long sigh. It had been more than a decade since he had to deal with anything close to this. Almost two decades to be exact. An incident between a male and female student... History sure repeated itself. Except in his history, it had frequently been Jouichirou at the centre of the maelstrom, which was a headache for himself and Fumio-san. Of all things he had to be alerted to by the Resort Medical Clinic, it was a suspected squabble between students who shouldn't have been out of their hotel rooms late last night. He kept in mind that last time he was called to investigate a dispute of any kind on the hotel grounds; it had been a situation involving adults with petty vengeance in his resort, which had warranted a swift firing from human resources as he wasn't going to put up with all that nonsense. Even now as he surveyed Nakiri Erina and Mitsunaga Yozora sitting in front of him wearing tight grimaces on their tense faces, he wondered if he should've just left the entire _Tootsuki_ conglomerate and had been like Jouichiro, just wander around and be a vagabond chef and not having to deal with time-wasting issues such as this. That sounded a hell of a lot more free.

He rubbed his rough scalp with his calloused, thick hand as he reasoned what he should do about this mismatched pair. It was late afternoon and Day-Two of the training camp was almost over. He had preferred to have dealt with this early in the morning to get it out of the way, or even the night of the _'incident'_ that these two managed to get themselves into, however the doctor of their Medical Clinic had already sent Nakiri off to her quarters and Mitsunaga had to stay the night in the infirmary. He didn't care whose fault it was, he cared that he had to reschedule important plan this afternoon, just to make time to give these two kids a good old-fashioned talking to.

"Nakiri-kun… Mitsunaga-kun. I expected better conduct from _Tootsuki_ students. Being outside of your assigned hotel rooms past curfew have serious consequences".

They gulped… huh… as if they didn't know there was curfew.

The illustrious grand-daughter of the Demon Food King of Japan twisted and turned in her plush seat, using all her power to face the opposite direction of the boy she apparently had beef with last night. It wasn't surprising as she had issues with many students to begin with. She was wrapped up tightly in her chef's uniform and crossed her arms across her chest. Her normally glowing hair was a liquid golden waterfall behind. She had taken her hair out of her tie. Her face was puce and flustered, and her brewing violet gaze was acidic as she glared at the carpet in his office. Her lips crumpled into petulant pouts as she continued to shift in her chair, impatient to leave and never come back.

The muscular chef turned his weary gaze over to the other one, the boy named Mitsunaga Yozora. He looked just as uncomfortable, if not more subtle about it. His dark hair looked unnaturally pulled to the side and his eyes were in fixed stony stares drilling deep holes into Gin, as if the wall behind his skull was much more interesting. What was with this boy? The young man hadn't blinked _even once_ and he was starting to get on his nerves. Again, this rarely happened. Gin had a right to reprimand him for his challenging and disrespectful gaze, but he didn't have it in him right now. His irises were too stationary. It was easy to see why he might rub people up the wrong way. They were electric blue glaciers stuck in time, its cutting sharpness only accentuated by thick, charcoal lashes framing handsome feline eyes. His body was also positioned away from the _Tootsuki_ Princess and his legs were spread apart as he had dumped himself in the chair when they first came in, continuing to stare at him as if he thought he didn't expect to be here, and wasn't liking it. His uniform reminded him of Chef Shinomiya, except his neckerchief was azure and he donned a dark-brown waist apron. His lips were pulled in together like he was suppressing a belch, and his jaws were locked together.

"What do the two of you have to say for yourselves?".

"…"

"…"

Really. They wouldn't rush to defend themselves and blame each other? He rubbed his chin. This was unexpected. He was so sure Nakiri Erina would break her composure first and reveal everything. He underestimated her willpower and control of her emotions in a situation like this. He almost missed it, but he thought he detected a slight shift from the Nakiri. Her eyes quickly darted to Mitsunaga-kun from her periphery, calculated and apprehensive. Her head was tilted up as per usual, and created the appearance of still trying to look down on the boy from her periphery, as if making sure nobody forgot she was of noble blood. This time, Gin didn't miss the infinitesimal crease in her perfect brow and the worry which quickly floated across her gaze. Oh?

"It was just an accident", started Mitsunaga-kun. "She tripped. I tried to catch her and I smacked my head on the edge of the _koi-pond_ while doing it".

"You tripped _over_ the balcony railing". He turned towards Nakiri-kun, pointedly.

"Y-Yes, Chef Doujima", she mumbled.

Hell no, he wasn't buying it. Their answers were too sketchy and it concerned him further. Nakiri-kun's cheeks bloomed like roses, the rouge was telling of some sort of embarrassment or mortification on her part. He hesitated to think these two students were up to anything scandalous and Mitsunaga-kun was trying to save their hides more than to protect Nakiri-kun's respectability, as if chivalry was still alive with the Millennial Generation. If he likened this bizarre turn of events to one of Jouichio's many incidents back in high school, perhaps Mitsunaga-kun did something weird and inappropriate to Nakiri-kun which earned stitches upside the head. Either way, these two teens were dead-set on sticking to this pitiful story. He also resigned to the fact that they were still teenagers, from the elite houses or not, they were still liable to do something incredibly stupid, courtesy of the rapidly changing chemical balances in their young brains that could land themselves in hot water or in his office waiting for the consequences of their actions.

"I will only say it once. If there was any foul play from either of you last night, now is the time to come clean. Are you both absolutely sure, _nothing else_?".

"Yes, Chef Doujima"

"…Yes Chef Doujima"

Nakiri-kun shrunk in on herself further and Mitsunaga-kun sagged in his seat. It was like pulling out hens' teeth. Fine, he'll leave it for tonight. He couldn't think of any an appropriate punishment right now because he didn't even know what the hell happened. But given the absolute hatred burning in the Nakiri-kun's eyes and her propensity to blow things out of proportion, Gin surmised Mitsunaga-kun must've done something trivial but offensive. Nakiri-kun wasn't one to be violent, so perhaps it truly was an accident and time had escaped them. Gin looked at the clock. It ticked on with the march of time, declaring with its antique hands that it was almost last afternoon.

"The doctor has informed me that there was no concussion and it wasn't serious, and that the stitches can be taken out after a couple of weeks. You've already been given some painkillers, so everything should be fine, however…".

Gin leaned his imposing body across the table. This caught the two miscreant's attention as he directed their faces at him, their petty fight momentarily forgotten. He could see them both gulp again in tandem as a sliver of fear flickered in their eyes.

"As the coordinated supervisor of the training camp, and branch manager of Tootsuki resort, I cannot let students who break curfew slide. The both of you should've gone straight back to your rooms after bathing. _Both_ of you will be informed of your punishment before the training camp is over".

"But—", they started.

"My decision is final. I will deliberate on what the punishment should be. In the meantime, the two you will go back to—".

 _Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!_

Gin cut off his breath and gave the two students one last admonishing stare before answering his phone. He fished it out of his breast pocket and shot a warning glare at both Mitsunaga-kun and Nakiri-kun who had taken advantage of the distraction and were beginning to once more stir in their seats.

"This is Gin", he said curtly.

" _Doujima-senpai! It's bad! You have to come. Shinomiya-senpai got challenged into a Shokugeki by a student!"._

"W-What?", Gin spluttered.

He abruptly got up from his desk, making his chair screech backwards and the students wince. Chef Inui's squeal of excitement set off alarm bells in him. My, my, this was most unusual. A student had both the courage and stupidity to challenge an alumnus while in the middle of the first round of assessment of their Tootsuki life. It was admirable and disappointing at the same time. Just who would do such a thing? Jouichirou came to mind. Whatever the case, as supervisor he needed to settle this swiftly before Chef Shinomiya's explosive temper laid waste on his hotel and the foolhardy student.

" _I'm done with group and I've already coralled my them onto the bus. I'm running over to Chef Shinomiya's now~!"._

The imposing branch manager of the hotel barely had time to formulate a response before Chef Inui cut the line. He huffed and shook his head. These two could wait.

' _Hang on… I have an idea'._

"You two. Come with me".

"Eh?".

"Huh?".

"Now".

Gin wasn't going to say it again and he was already out the door. He could hear the two students fumbling out of their seats and their clamouring footsteps tried to match his strides. He strode briskly and purposely down the corridor towards the elevator to go down to the ground level kitchens set aside specifically for the training camp. There was nothing like a good _Shokugeki_ to settle disputes. Why didn't he think of it sooner? In ancient times, trial by combat was the common method for this type of thing. Nobody dared question the results as they were final. First he needed to see who this other student was and he would hash out the details a bit later. He also needed to reschedule his plans again, and his esteemed hotel guest wasn't going to be pleased.

This was unavoidable anyway.

Once the three of them crammed into the spacious elevator, he found himself unknowingly wedged between the two students. The tension in the air was brittle and sharp. A minute of awkward silence was enough to break Nakiri-kun's sour mood.

"I-I said I was sorry…", she began.

"Why are you saying _'sorry'_ for? Will it make the stitches in my head go away?".

"If you hadn't-!".

" _Enough"._

Gin all but growled. It was like these two _teenagers_ forgot his huge body was standing slap-bang in the middle of them and they riled up their spat again. He needed silence to think and misbehaving students, regardless of their social standing, interrupting his thought patterns snapped his patience. He needed to calm down. The two petulant students immediately clamped their mouths, their immature words died on their tongues. He had the mind to fail them both right now if he thought he could get away with it. This time they had faced each other like the Germans and the British back in their historic wars, full of animosity and raging tempers. Their atmospheres clashed wildly and the friction in the air made his skin dry. With a quick turn of his head, Mitsunaga-kun had pinned Nakiri down with one shot from those tempestuous orbs behind his dark fringe. Gin had never seen any Nakiri-kun back down from anything until now and it came as a mild shock to his system. As soon as the Nakiri heiress had flounced her body in Mitsunaga-kun's directly, hackles raised and fists up, she immediately flew back around and faced the other way like a whirlwind single-handedly defeated by a thunderstorm. Her eyes were cold, hard and frigid, her body shook with boiling anger as she aimed it at the poor elevator carpet instead of the young man, back to square one. It must've taken her a lot of energy to swallow her pride and apologise, it showed from the utter humiliation on her face.

Mitsunaga-kun snorted at her, his cheeks dusted with pink annoyance.

"Nakiri-kun. Mitsunaga-kun. When the two are done with the rest of today's challenges, meet me in the Hotel side wing".

The two snapped out of it and jolted on the spot. Gin made sure he turned away from Mitsunaga-kun at the right angle so that he didn't take on the brunt of his unflinching and penetrating eyes.

"… Why?", asked Mitsunaga-kun.

"That is where your punishment awaits".

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* * *

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He'd never wanted to deck someone in the face _so hard_.

Souma was already on a short fuse when the French Chef said Megumi's expulsion was set in stone, but when the bastard threatened to abuse his power and expel him too, that was the breaking point. Souma was still blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter… and yet surprisingly satisfying. He made sure to hide it as he didn't want to scare Megumi. It was the bluenette who had stayed his hand, quite literally. Her tears and desperate attempts to mask the crushing defeat in her wavering voice as she told him it was 'okay' with a wide smile, broke his heart and it fuelled his ire for the smug bastard further.

His fingers curled themselves in and dug into his palms. He imagined that smug chef's neck snapping in his mind and it felt good. He could feel his fist smashing into his nose, splattering red blood on the walls. What a sight that would be. But instead, he just replied as if his mouth was wired shut.

* * *

" _Do certain shokugeki rules apply to graduates?"._

* * *

And that was how he and Megumi ended up at the cusp of evening at the side wing of the hotel. Apparently, the _Tootsuki_ resort side wing was not scheduled for use during the camp, so the basement kitchens would offer no interruptions for their unofficial _shokugeki_. Souma inspected the place and found that it was huge for a basement kitchen. It actually looked more like a morgue given the dim lighting, stone archways which supported the ceiling and the sterile metal countertops which he could imagine carrying a corpse ready for the coroner. Chef Shinomiya's corpse, that was.

There was another thing that was bugging him…

"Why are Mitsunaga and Nakiri here?" he deadpanned.

This was supposed to be between himself, Megumi and Chef Shinomiya. The Nakiri huffed and her face reddened as she glared back at him with defiant violet eyes. She crossed her arms across her chest as she always did and turned her nose at him as if he was dirt beneath her shoes. She huffed, closed her eyes and flicked her head the other way. Mitsunaga on the other hand, popped a pill from a plastic bottle into his mouth, threw his head back and dry-swallowed. There was a hint of annoyance and frustration in his usually piercing eyes as he fought back from touching the back of his head. What was wrong with him? Ginsekai said that he hadn't seen him at all last night, and he only saw him in the morning before they had to split for their groups. The exuberant blonde was very worried and barely got a sentence out of his gamer friend before he dashed off. Also, it just so happened that Hishoko, guard-dog chick was fretting all over the place this morning over her previous Nakiri Erina, asking her mistress quite loudly where she had disappeared to last night. She hadn't returned to her hotel room on time either it seemed. Souma did his best to connect the dots and he was sure…

' _There's something up with these two'._

"Mitsunaga-kun and Nakiri-kun will be participating in a separate unofficial _shokugeki",_ explained Doujima _-senpai._

"Why?".

" _Side-quest",_ blurted Mitsunaga.

"Wh-What!? Don't say weird things like that! It's nothing of the sort!", Nakiri exploded.

"Want to tell them why we're really here?", he gazed over at the Nakiri with narrowed eyes.

"Hmmph!", she rebuked.

Man, that was so like Mitsunaga. Souma inwardly chuckled. Take it from him to twist everything into a video-game to lighten the mood and Nakiri to be a kill-joy. The dark-haired gamer chef didn't elaborate and it seemed nobody could force him to as he pulled his signature headphones over his ears. He winced as he slowly did so and Souma couldn't help but be suspicious. No. He let it go. Tonight wasn't about Nakiri and Mitsunaga. For him, it was about saving his and Megumi's future. They didn't deserve to go down like that, especially by the hands of the stuck-up French Chef. But… the other thing bugging his mind was…

"Wha—", Megumi gasped. "Why are all these alumni here?!"

Yeah, the rest of the alumni spectated as if they were a bunch of circus monkeys.

"I've requested their presence to be judges, as per _shokugeki_ rules we need at least three", said Doujima- _senpai._

Souma was equally surprised. He didn't think the whole shebang was going to be that big of an affair. Chef Mizuhara perched on top of a chair, bent over and hunched as she surveyed them all with cold but curious eyes. Her sock-clad feet on top of the chair gave him the feeling that she was one of those chefs who also threw convention behind too. She fingered her lips until her magenta eyes landed on him coolly. He shivered. Behind her was thankfully, an ordinary looking Japanese chef, Chef Sekimori. He had chocolate brown hair and his eyes were always squinting as if the sun rays would damage his eyes… or maybe he was just old and the collagen around his eyes were failing, Souma was sure. His _geta_ sandals clopped against the spotless linoleum floor as he moved forward and hummed. Like Chef Mizuhara, he was still in his chef's uniform. Marui was in Chef Sekimori's group this morning and his gaunt friend mentioned he was cool-headed and logical comparing to the rest of the chefs, before he evaporated from Souma's very eyes. Then there was Chef Gotouda. Just when Souma thought foreigners couldn't get any weirder. Takumi Aldini was an example already, this blonde and blue eyed chef was a creep. What adult man would flirt and squirt his charm at unsuspecting female students, like Megumi, and ask her to 'spend the night' with him to 'chat' at his place called something in French. Even if it was a joke, Souma knew that was crossing the line. He smiled at them and winked at Megumi.

' _Gross'._

Souma didn't begin to ponder why Chef Inui was duck-taped and gagged to a chair, but it had Chef Shinomiya's handiwork all over it. He had watched Chef Shinomiya's violent tendencies towards the whimsical, but well-meaning Chef Inui and had concluded that he had anger-management issues.

"This is so exciting! A challenge between a handsome student and a handsome alumnus to defend the honour of a cute chef, such as Tadokoro-chan. Why, this has all the makings of a romantic telenova. I wonder what Chef Chapelle would say if he found out about our little underground _shokugeki"_ , gushed Chef Gotouda.

"I'm sure this will make his blood-pressure skyrocket and send him early to his grave. Well, not before chewing us out and calling the police for your inappropriate behaviour towards Tadokoro Megumi. So I suggest you keep your comments to yourself", Chef Sekimori admonished.

"So cruel…".

"If he _does_ find out…", Chef Mizuhara muttered, "I'm running away and blaming this shit-show on Shinomiya".

" _I heard you, runt!"._

Souma had been lingering in the back. He even slowly edged closer and closer out of the kitchen lights just so he could grab Mitsunaga and ask him for real, what the hell he was doing here. While Doujima- _senpai_ was trying to break up the banter between the two pastel-haired alumni, he snuck a peek behind Mitsunaga as he was busy fidgeting with his smartphone.

"Hey, what happened to the back of your head? Why's there dried blood?".

Mitsunaga flinched and stepped away. He pulled his headphones down, being careful not to let it ruffle the back of his hair. Souma leaned closer to him and he noticed there was an intense blush covering his cheeks. People always told Souma that he needed to learn personal space, but he stepped even closer until he could smell his lingering citrus scent that Chef Shinomiya hated so much. Right now he couldn't help wonder why Mitsunaga was hiding behind his fringe and blushing so badly, like he got caught with a dirty magazine.

Oh.

"Shit… you were reading porn and you _jacked_ so hard that you hit your head?".

"NO!" he half yelled and half whispered in the dimness.

Souma felt his wrist pull away and stumbled. Before he knew it, Mitsunaga yanked him further into the shadows, away from the gathering in the basement kitchens. Souma had never seen Mitsunaga blush like that! He was always so stoic, in charge and to be honest, breath-takingly self-assured whenever he had his headphones around his ears blasting his tracks, abandoning reality. So when Souma saw that pink on his cheeks, he knew something serious was afoot. As soon as Nakiri Erina yawned, those cobalt orbs were suddenly on her as if anything she did was urgent and couldn't be missed. Mitsunaga turned his head back the other way to avert his gaze from Souma. Wow, that was a first. Avoiding eye contact. Mitsunaga usually craved for eye-contact, but the sudden rosiness gave him away.

"Nakiri and I were on the balcony last night, after finishing the dinner challenge. I finished my _onsen_ bath and was just listening to old tracks out there because it was cooler, and I was just looking through my old recipes. I caught Nakiri as she went by and we started talking… We weren't doing anything, just talking. I showed her my recipes… and Hayato-kun saw us. She got surprised and dropped my recipe book over the railing. She tried to catch it but she was going to fall! So I grabbed her before she did. Well, after that, Hayato-kun ran off…"

Souma casted his mind back to last night, which took some time because it was a pretty big night and nobody got much sleep in Marui's room.

"Huh… no wonder why he was distracted when explaining _Dungeons and Dragons_ to me. He was grossed out by you and Nakiri getting chummy".

"We weren't…", Mitsunaga growled at him.

The embarrassed gamer-chef pulled his headphones quickly over his ears. He grunted when the arc of his expensive item brushed against the back of his head. His face became the colour of bad sunburn and under that dark hair, it had the effect of looking like hot charcoals over a barbecue.

"She tackled me and we both fell off. I hit my head against the edge of the _koi-pond_ down below" Mitsunaga quickly turned around, bent his head and pointed to the crusty, dark red scars hidden amongst the strands of his silky, black hair. Souma suspected he did this was more to hide his face from him than anything else. Far out. There were stitches! He felt the back of his own head ache.

"The Doctor said Nakiri _'dumped'_ me at the hotel infirmary and I woke up in the morning there. I don't really remember what happened in between".

"Mate, you don't have a lot of luck with girls do you".

"…".

"So, this like _shokugeki_ punishment. Why both of you? It's Nakiri's fault isn't it? She pushed you".

"Yeah, but I didn't tell Doujima-sama that. I only told him that she tripped and I tried to catch her. It doesn't matter whose fault it is, Doujima-sama is only punishing us for breaking curfew".

"You're… defending her?", asked Souma.

It seemed like Mitsunaga was done talking and went back to scrolling through his smartphone playlist. Souma shook his head at him. Unbelievable. If it were him, he would've ratted out Nakiri in a heart-beat. Souma didn't take well to violence, even from the opposite sex. Why would Mitsunaga try to protect Nakiri as well? This guy was a mystery. He used video-game music to fuel his culinary creation and his heart was just so open and at the same time Souma had difficulty understanding him. Not only he had a big heart, as Ishikagaku-senpai had said, but he wore it on his sleeve too. As he observed the reactions of Mitsunaga Yozora, he came to one conclusion. This guy needed to spend more time in the kitchen and less time getting himself into trouble.

' _Heh… like I'm one to talk'._

"Yukihira-kun come over here and listen to the rules!", Chef Doujima hollered at him.

Souma punched Mitsunaga in the arm as a signal that they would catch up later and went back to the others.

"These are the available ingredients from today's left over assignments", Doujima- _senpai_ gestured to the tray of vegetables, dairy, meat and fruits. "The theme will be any dish you can make from them. There is one additional condition, though".

A sadistic grin emerged on Doujima Gin's face.

"Tadokoro Megumi… You will be the main chef".

"EHHH?!".

"Everyone ready? Now let the _shokegeki_ begin!".

Oh fuck.

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* * *

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 _"Uwaaahhhh!"._

Erina rolled her eyes. Just moments before, she watched Tadokoro collapse onto her knees. The position of defeat, however that was not the case. Tadokoro bawled her eyes out. The tears burst forth from her eyes like water from a dam, spilling down her face. It was unsightly. A win should be dignified. Sweet utter relief was what her hiccups meant and for some reason it eased Erina's annoyance. Erina turned her eyes away and looked at the judges. Chef Shinomiya had since departed, the truth of his arrogance blared like a lighthouse from his dish. _Chou Farci_ , a mediocre gourmet dish he had chosen to disguise his stagnation. The single drop of tear from Chef Shinomiya didn't escape Erina's notice as she scrutinised each and every judges facial expression as they taste tested the Rainbow Terrine. She didn't need to taste it to know how Tadokoro lacked the technical skill to match _Le Magicien de L_ é _gume._ It wasn't heated long enough, the plating was blasé, the paté didn't meld together amongst other things.

"Congrats Tadokoro!".

Yukihira Souma grinned from ear to ear as he folded his arms together and leaned back into his lackadaisical posture. Erina had never seen anyone work like he did and she was never going to admit it aloud. It was an uneasy fascination as she observed him. He had anticipated Tadokoro's every move, melding her work with his support into one cohesive whole. He did nothing unnecessary… constantly keeping one eye on Tadokoro so he never impeded her work. All of her ingredients had been prepared just the way she had wanted, and from every single startle and squeak, Erina could tell she had been just as surprised as the next person when her mind had been read by Yukihira Souma. Her ingredients had showed up at her fingertips at the right timing, making the pair work three… no… four times faster than what was expected.

Erina caressed her chin as she stared at the plates equally filled with coins. Put aside Tadokoro, did this diner chef really learn all that skill from simply working in a low class establishment?

 _Clink._

 **" _Track five"_**

Erina frowned and turned around and noticed Mitsunaga over at Yukihira and Tadokoro's side of the kitchen. Her cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like a spring rose. She couldn't even look away to find a distraction. His hooded blue eyes drooping in meditation were captivating. It had been too dark to get a good look at them last night, but under the kitchen lights, they were seriously blue… _sickeningly_ blue. A field of cornflower, cloudless sky blue. There was probably a crayon colour named after his 'blue'. The way his cutting gaze dissected the terrine made her stomach flip.

' _Would he ever look at me like that…?'._

ABORT.

Erina snapped out of it. He had a small sliced portion of the aptly named 'Rainbow Terrine' and there were small smears of the matching tangy _sudachi gelee_ and _shiso_ herbed sauces. She watched with a dry mouth as he slid the headphones off his head carefully, letting it rest against his pale, long neck, before placing his dish down onto the counter gently.

"W-What?", squeaked Tadokoro.

The slip of a girl was finally reduced to sniffles. She was already on her feet and she stared with red puffy eyes as if she had forgotten that Mitsunaga was there the whole time. Truthfully, Erina had too while she watched the Polar Star Dorm misfits cook and she wished she continued to forget him because the more she thought about him and how he was still in her presence made her cheeks sear and for a minute she thought she was on fire.

"Your Rainbow Terrine has inspired me to use **_Track Five_** for my _shokugeki_ ", said Mitsunaga.

Tadokoro blinked long and hard as Erina watched her try and fail to piece together his words to make some sense. Nope she didn't, but Yukihira seemed to get it as he smiled brightly in return.

"Oh yes! Chef Doujima, I was going to ask why Mitsunaga-kun and Nakiri-san is doing here? They didn't judge so…".

Tadokoro hurried forward with her hands clasped to her chest. Her worried eyes zipped between the The Guild President and herself. She fidgeted on her feet like a hyper-aware rabbit.

"Your classmates broke curfew last night, one of them ended up with an injury and both refuse to truthfully explain why. Yes Mitsunaga-kun, I know that you weren't being honest with me. They're going to have a _shokugeki_ to see which one we should keep and which to expel", said Doujima-sama.

Erina frowned. Just for curfew, was it? She didn't care that Mitsunaga lied or whatever. He could say anything he wanted, but Erina knew she would still be in favour and stay in _Tootsuki._ Well, this was going to be a cinch. She had better send her best wishes to Mitsunaga Yozora while he was still here. He looked like he would need it in the future with his hopeless campaign for video-game music in gourmet cuisine.

"What! That's so harsh, Doujima- _senpai!_ Isn't breaking curfew part of the fun for high school students' over-night stay excursions? It's their first opportunity, swap rooms, find love and get into doing _ecch_ —".

"Not so fast Chef Inui!", Chef Gotouda explained passionately "It's enough that this romantic telenova has a double romance, but it needs to stay G-rated!".

Chef Doujima simply ignored them and walked over to the other side of the kitchen to inspect what was left of the vegetables from the first _shokuegeki_. Then he went ahead and opened the doors of his stock pantry, and opened the fridge to see what meat and fish was left.

"Camp rules are Camp rules, Chef Inui".

"Hmmm".

A serpentine smile slithered its way onto the Japanese chef's beautiful face as she sidled up to Doujima's expansive but unsuspecting back.

"You're strict and firm, but never this mean… so… has this something to do with cancelling a _certain special_ evening with a _certain_ _lovely lady_ hotel guest? Hmm?".

"I don't know what you're talking about".

Erina felt gross. This was too weird.

' _I don't think Chef Doujima realises his blush extends to the back of his neck'._

"So!". Chef Doujima almost knocked Chef Inui out of the way as he turned around and walked back to the kitchen stations. "We will use the same theme as Tadokoro-kun and Yukihira-kun. Use whatever ingredients that are available in this kitchen and create any dish you please. The remaining alumni will judge and the verdict will be tonight –".

"Excuse me Chef Doujima, this is a farce".

Erina felt all eyes fall onto her but she didn't bat a lash. She inspected her fingernails while she was still under the kitchen lights and huffed out her most bored sigh. She watched as silence fell across the kitchen and the way everyone knitted their brows together in slight confusion. She had the audacity to interrupt Chef Doujima? Well, she was the Nakiri heiress, and he worked for her family. Technically, he worked for her also. She had went along with all there whims this night and she felt she wasted her time long enough. She flicked her hair off her shoulders and threw a condescending glare at Mitsunaga. But his blatant ignorance of her presence as he inspected the ingredients with his headphones on made her sick to her stomach.

"I'm the Tenth Seater of the Elite Ten and _that one_ over there is an unranked chef with the most juvenile and twisted concept of gourmet cuisine. He is going to be decimated by me. You want a _shokugeki_ between _he_ and _I_ to see who would emerge victorious? That's a joke and half. You already know what the answer is going to be, so why don't we finish this up and so that Mitsunaga-san can go pack his bags".

Erina finished with a flourish of her hands. She settled them on her hips and tilted her nose high so that she could level them all from the barrel of her nose.

" _Hehehehe…"._

What?

Erina tensed up and looked around for that tittering nose coming from the alumni. Her eyes widened when she saw the placid and joyful Chef Inui, sporting a truly sinister smirk.

 _"Ano…_ Nakiri-kun, have you ever seen Mitsunaga-kun cook?", asked Chef Inui, leaning against the metal counter top.

"Also, have you tasted Mitsunaga-kun's dishes?", Chef Mizuhara slinked off the chair like a cat.

Erina's hands grew clammy and her palms stuck to her hips. What was going on?!

"Both of us had Mitsunaga Yozora in our assignment groups. We've seen how he performs in the kitchen and we've tasted his food. Do not make the same mistake as us, and the rest of the school and underestimate him".

What was this foreboding feeling? Erina gritted her teeth as Chef Inui continued to smirk at her and Chef Mizuhara judging her with her eyes. She felt her pulse race and self-control straining under the boiling ire that clawed at her stomach. These alumni chefs dared to defy her, the youngest Elite Ten member of _Tootsuki's_ history and the wielder of the Divine Tongue? Her body betrayed her and her heart speed up at the incredulity of the two female alumni chefs. Alumni or not, they were _history._ Anxiety traveled up Erina's veins but never made it to her facial muscles or skin. Her complexion this time remained astonishingly pale as the blood left her cheeks, and her eyes were steady as if she was shopping for ingredients. She let out an unstated sigh and turned to leave, showing she was not afraid to turn her back on them.

"One more thing Nakiri-san…", drolled Chef Mizuhara.

Erina stopped.

"When Chef Doujima asked Chef Sekimori and myself to come tonight to judge Tadokoro Megumi's and Shinomiya- _kisama's_ _shokugeki,_ we were going to say _'no'_ , because honestly, we needed the time to prepare for tomorrow's challenges and not waste it on something meaningless… or have anything to do with Shinomiya- _kisama_. But when Chef Doujima mentioned that he is also setting up a _shokugeki_ between you and Mitsunaga-kun too… well here we are".

Erina whirled back around in shock. Those words affected her more than she thought as she stared into Chef Mizuhara's harsh glare and Chef Sekimori stern countenance. They came for _him?!_

"So Nakiri!", Yukihira Souma stepped forward, throwing yet another spanner in her mood. "How about you truly size up your opponent before blowing them off like that, especially…".

The red headed glowered at her and it actually looked almost menacing. He leaned forward, his nose almost touching hers as his golden eyes darkened slightly and it wasn't because of the obstruction of the light. He whispered lowly where only she could hear.

"… _when the guy LIED to cover your arse from getting into MORE serious trouble, Little Miss Pushy-off-the-balcony"._

"…!".

Erina flew back, her mouth went instantly dry and she was sure her face completely drained of colour! Yukihira leaned back with one hand on his hip, and the other… pointing to the back of his head.

' _The stitches! Mitsunaga told him about the stitches!'._

Erina was mortified. Frozen on the spot. She felt traumatised for no reason. She couldn't believe what was happening and how the tables have turned on her. She stood there soaking in Yukihira's revelation of the knowledge he possessed and her head began to spin. She would never live this down as long as she lived.

" _Fine!_ We'll have this ridiculous _shokugeki_. Mitsunaga!", Erina zeroed onto the bane of her existence, ready to tear him a new one.

She blanched when he wasn't wear she last saw him. He wasn't over at Tadokoro's side of the kitchen station sampling her terrine, anymore but was on the other side. He stood there, but his headphones were gone. She looked around and saw that he had settled it to hang on the back of the chair Chef Mizuhara was previously perched on. His tall and lanky frame just stood there, flipping through something on his smartphone before strapping it to his left arm with some sort of special velcro. His eyes were closed the whole time as if he was sleep-walking or meditating. His face was utterly calm and peaceful. Erina remembered his lashes were thick and long, but it appeared more voluminous as it fanned against his high cheekbones. He was holding something in his fingers before inserting it into his ears.

"Five minutes, fifty seconds. Twelve times. My looping is finished are you ready?", he muttered.

He opened his eyes and Erina felt her heart was just shot. Beyond those dark, deep blue eyes, there was something else. She hoped it was just the trick of the light, but she could've sworn she saw a flash of magenta crackling beneath those burning sapphires.

Erina walked stiffly over to the ingredients and piled everything she needed onto her tray.

Mitsunaga Yozora would rue the day he met her.

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* * *

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 _' **Track Five.** Exploration theme'_

Yozora knew what he had to do. He had to stay in this training camp no matter what. He was very aware that Nakiri Erina was the tenth seater, meaning she was the tenth best in the whole school, while also possessing the Divine Tongue. He didn't know what her training regime was, but he had something she didn't have.

He _PvP'd_ with Ishikagaku-senpai and Tsurugi-senpai.

Every.

Single.

Day.

' _My skill… I owe it all to them'._

Yozora hit play and his heart instantly soared. The piece opened with a gentle flute that carried the spirit of the wind through him. He could feel it on his skin where the cool and fresh air caressing every inch of his body. The dissonance of the minor key fell as it fell from the major, made his skin shiver as he felt a strong pull of longing and yearning for a fantastical world beyond his own guide him through a wilderness filled with green grass, rocky outcrops, clear blue skies and _freedom._

A rainbow appeared before him like the terrine.

Finally the anticipated beats drove in and the high notes of the flute evaporated giving away to folk-drums and a finger-strumming country guitar as his heart fell into _tempo_ next with the fanciful orchestra's entrance. He was going on a country trip.

' _First is the_ _ **honey icecream'.**_

Yozora counted himself in and fell into step with perfect synocopation with his heartbeats. He boiled the honey and milk first and then he whisked together the eggs, sugar, and half of the boiled honey and milk before returning the whole thing to the saucepan and stirring it over medium heat. Then he passed it through a fine sieve and chilled it over an ice bath. While Nakiri was throwing one of her tantrums earlier, he had scored the equipment rack and lifted the paco jet cannisters, filled all nine and placed it into the blast chiller. It didn't take long for them to freeze, and then he ran them under warm water to condense them into three before returning them to the blast chiller. In no time, they were frozen again and he took one canister out at a time to churn in the paco-jet. Once done, he placed them into the normal freezer, not needing to think about them until preparation.

' _Second is the_ _ **chocolate bark**_ _'._

His fingers danced over his ingredients with light whimsical orchestra and the gritty Western sounds providing the foundation of gravel beneath his wandering feet. He melted the seventy-two percent dark chocolate to be perfectly tempered over the baine-marie on the water-filled saucepan. Once it was at the right temperature and glossy consistency, he poured the hot, molten chocolate onto the clean, stainless steel bench. He watched it ooze like magma. He licked his lips, the strong chocolate scent momentarily over-powering his senses. He flipped the pallet knife in his nimble fingers and spread it out as evenly as possible in smooth, sure strokes and allowed it to set. Once that was done, he flipped the Dutch scrapper into his left hand, held it at exactly forty-five degrees and pushed, he began to scrape the chocolate off the bench. Yozora watched it naturally curl like the carpenter's ribbon. He scraped as much as he needed and gently stored it into an airtight container.

' _Third is the_ _ **blackberry soup'.**_

Yozora did not allow himself to see what Nakiri was doing as it would've been pointless. The track looped again and he was back to the initial flute, electric guitar and piano urging him forward with a taste for adventure in the country wilderness of the exciting field theme. He combined all the blackberries, caster sugar and water wrapped in cling film to let the sugar absorb into the fruit. He placed it over a simmering pot of water and counted that twenty minutes would be enough to let all the juices drop. On beat, it was done and he strained the juice for his soup out, and threw away the blackberry mush.

' _Now… the_ _ **almond tuille'.**_

Like the metronome, he prepared the pastry meticulously. Tsurugi-senpai was the one who taught him the secret to making the perfect tuille. He had always thought the transition at one-minute, twenty-two seconds was a nice touch and really made him feel like he wasn't in the kitchen and the unorthodox use of those guitars made him feel like he was exploring the country-side. Yozora pulled his half cooked, almond tuille batter from the even and placed a sheet of baking paper over the top. He rolled the rolling pin across the top, feeling the mixture yield and spreaded the hot tuille to the edge of the slip-mat on the tray, making it as thin as possible. Once the almond scented pastry cooled down, he lifted it out of the baking paper and snapped them into shards of varying shapes and size. He could hear the crunching leaves in his hand. He put it into an air-tight container too and pushed it to the back of mind until he needed it again.

' _Next is the_ _ **pistachio sponge**_ _and the_ _ **buttermilk panacotta'.**_

Yozora gave in and looked up and see what Nakiri was up to. The pure look of bored concentration and focus on her face seemed to be mocking him, but he didn't let that dampen his fire, but only stoked it. The mix of guitar and the piano kicked up and orchestra swelled, making his adventure more grand each time his heart listened to it. Yozora swiftly placed all his ingredients for the pistachio sponge into a _Thermomix_ and blended it until it was smooth and silky. He poured it into the SI gun three quarters of the way and charged it three times. Yozora prepared himself and squirted the mixture into _dariole_ moulds and popped them into the microwave until the pistachio sponge was dry on top. Once it was done, he retrieved the moulds, carefully turned them upside down and teased out the cake. He let it cool before placing them into another air-tight container to join the rest of his stored ingredients.

' _One hour to go'._

After he soaked the gelatine in the ice water, Yozora boiled the cream, sugar and vanilla seeds. Then he squeezed out the soft gelatine to remove any excess moisture and whisked it into the cream mixture and when the gelatine dissolved, he whisked into the butter milk. He passed his silky, beige mixture through a fine sieve and cooled it over an ice bath. As it started to set, Yozora transferred it to clean plastic containers and set it in the fridge.

' _I'm up to the_ _ **blackberry jelly**_ _and_ _ **honeycomb**_ _'._

The powerful strokes of the lower pitched strings, the electric guitar and the drums fell into wolid rhythmic beats, miming a metronome, allowing the piano to have its solo. The heavy fingers of the artist who played the piano left a gravitas which imprinted on Yozora, as his gusto for handling the ingredients increased. He soaked another sheet of gelatine and warmed up some of the blackberry soup. He went through the motions in similar fashion to the buttermilk panacotta with meticulous concentration. Once the gelatine and blackberry soup mixture had melded perfectly, he passed it through the sieve and cooled it over an ice-bath before pouring it all into a clean bowl and set it in the fridge to solidify. Next, Yozora created _'wet sand_ ' out of his sugar and some dribbles of water in a saucepan. He made sure to mix it well and brushed the sides of the saucepan with a pastry brush to prevent crystalisation. He added honey and glucose and placed it over high-heat. Once the mixture reached his desired temperature, right on beat, he added bicarbonate soda then mixed it gently. As the mixture started to foam up and expand, Yozora quickly poured it out and spread it onto the lined baking tray and left it to cool.

' _Finally… the_ _ **almond praline**_ _'._

Yozora scattered the almond flakes onto another lined baking tray and toasted it in the oven until it as golden brown. He repeated his steps to make the 'wet sand' from another batch of sugar and placed it over high heat until it was a golden caramel. Once it reached one hundred and seventy degrees Celsius, Yozora mixed into the toasted almond flakes and spreaded it immediately onto another lined baking tray for it to cool as well.

"Fifteen minutes to go!" Chef Inui rang out.

The track looped back the beginning. Just in time. He could here Yukihira whoop and cheer in the background, above the exploration track in his ears, but not his heart.

' _Have to assemble now'._

Yozora fell into the 'common-time' of the piece. He chose a pale green shallow dish with geometric carvings in its glaze porcelain. Perfect. He took out all of his air-tight containers first. He sprinkled a teaspoon and half of **almond praline** in the centre of the plate like a soft mound of sand. He retrieved the **pistachio sponge** and tore it up into three large, medium and small pieces, seeing the lichen-clad stone roll in his palms. Just like that. He fluffed them around a bit until they were placed neatly as a trio. Yozora put three rough table spoons of the **blackberry jelly** and three rough spoonfuls of **buttermilk panacotta** in between and around the lichen coloured sponge cake. He scattered three plump blackberries and blueberries onto the plate, letting them fell wherever they felt like as there were no laws in the spring country except to go where the wind took him. He broke up the **honeycomb** into small pieces and scattered them around as well. Using a small ice-cream scoop, Yozora formed a medium _rocher_ of **honey ice-cream** straight out of the paco-jet canister. He carefully placed it right in the middle of the plate, on the almond praline. Yozora carefully lifted some **dark chocolate bark** and closed his eyes as he arranged them blindly on the plate. He didn't need to see, he let the music guide his hands. He opened his eyes and almost cried at how it arranged itself to look like bark naturally falling from the tree and tumbling out onto the grass. He did with same with pieces of **almond** _ **tuille**_ **.**

The track finished on the lingering guitar and orchestra just in time to end the final loop.

"Done"

His dish. He named it **A Country Ramble.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

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Erina wiped her brow as she arranged the last element on her dish.

 **Roasted Crayfish with Asian Mushrooms and** _ **Armagnac**_ **Sauce.**

She turned her eyes haughtily at Mitsunaga who wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His eyes were still searing after the _shokugeki_ and Erina was coloured impressed. He wouldn't last long though.

"Are you ready to present Nakiri-san?", Chef Sekimori announced.

"Of course. _Fufufu._ Please enjoy".

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* * *

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"Souma-kun, why are they taking so long to decide?"

Megumi floundered up and down the space behind Souma-kun as she stood there drooling over the plate presented on the kitchen stations. The three chefs were turned on themselves, forming a protective circle as she deliberated and deliberated as if they were a jury deciding the fate of a convicted felon on the stand. They all had troubled looks on their faces and Megumi really wanted to know exactly what they were talking about.

 _'The chefs were blown apart by both Mitsunaga-kun's and Nakiri-san's dishes. It's hard to tell which one they liked more"._

She looked over at Mitsunaga-kun's plate. It was beautiful and the aesthetics was gorgeous. It looked like a sample of summer sliced right out of nature and put on a plate for the people to gaze in awe. It was a delicate dessert dish filled with a variety of complex elements which all married each other, for sure and Megumi had to fight back her saliva. The glistening berries and the _rocher_ of soft, yellow ice cream looked so delectable. The dark chocolate bark and deep luscious blackberry jelly offered a contrast of colour with the more pastel and muted tones of the tuille, honeycomb, green sponge praline and panacotta. She could smell the delicate aromatic flavours of Mitsunaga-kun's dish from over her side and she dreamed to let the morsels touch her lips, and send her spinning into the bosom of nature. Unfortunately everything on the plate were shared and gobbled up by the alumni judges.

Meanwhile, Nakiri Erina's dish looked like it was packed full of flavour. The rich whiteness of the tender and plump crayfish looked so succulent, Megumi had to fight back drooling at the delicious roasted smell of the crustaceans that reminded her so much of her home town by the sea. The carefully seasoned and cooked mushrooms added a vibrant and oriental touch to her dish and the bluenette craned her neck to see if there were any left-over morsel on the serving dish… nope… no such luck. The scattered Asian greens had completed the rest of the dish and the aromatic herbs were sure to tie in all the flavours.

Megumi looked into Souma-kun's face and saw that he was pondering something serious, which was rare.

"What are you thinking of, Souma-kun?".

"I'm thinking that this will be a night Nakiri never forgets".

"Hmm?".

"We've come to a decision!," declared Chef Inui.

Every student in the room held their breaths, eager and wanting for the answer. Would Mitsunaga-kun continue to study at Tootsuki? Or would it be Nakiri Erina? Mitsunaga-kun had long taken out his Bluetooth earpieces and his headphones were back over his neck. He still looked tired and exhausted from completing an insane number of complex elements onto his plate. She had gathered that Ginsekai-kun and Mitsunaga-kun often take the texture, complexity and dynamic range of the musical piece they listened to and incorporated them into their dishes. She also learnt that that wasn't all… they embedded the music's _soul_ and their _hearts_ into it. It was almost a divine concept that Megumi had no choice and resigned that she would never reach that spiritual level of cooking.

Nakiri Erina narrowed her eyes and Mitsunaga-kun sucked in a breath.

Souma-kun tensed up and Megumi clasped her hands together.

"We declare that the—".

 _BAM!_

" _YOU PEOPLE DARE TO INVITE YOURSELVES TO HOLD TWO UNDERGROUND SHOKUGEKI WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE AND PERMISSION?!"._

Megumi slipped and fell into Souma-kun and they both landed in a heap!

Shouting rent the air. What was once filled with tension, was polluted with guilt. Everyone jumped up, squawked and yelped at the visage of a very, very pissed off elderly French Chef glowering with red Satanic eyes, and lashing his killing intent from the entrance of their kicked in doorway. His veins bulged and spasmed near his eyes, just short of bursting. His teeth gnashed together, ready to chew flesh and bone for the perpetrators for holding unofficial _shokugekis._ Megumi was going to wet her pants!

" _Uwaahh! It's_ Chef Chapelle!", screamed Chef Inui.

Chef Chapelle was known as the unsmiling chef. In the school, he was the old grouch that never cracked a smile, until Megumi managed it. It seemed he would never smile again no matter how much she tried! He breathed fire from his mouth and steam blew from his ears. His temper was also infamous. Once Chef Chapelle got going there was no escape, leaving only made his ire worse, longer lasting.

" _Les marmots_ … After so many years under my tutelege, you are still up to no good. Should I give you alumni another lashing which you will never forget?", Chef Chapelle seethed.

"We're so sorry, Chef Chapelle… It was Shinomiya's fault…" Chef Mizuhara's dropped onto the floor, the intimidation from her old lecturer getting to her cool composure.

"Hmmpph. _Monsieur_ Shinomiya said you'd say something like that _Mademoiselle_ Mizuhara. So I suggest you hold your tongue".

"Eh, Shinomiya?! _That bastard! He snitched on us!",_ Shrieked Chef Inui.

" _Soyes silencieux!_ This _shokugeki_ is now over. All of you, get back to your hotel rooms. You all have early mornings and if any of you alumni sleep in, I won't be so forgiving. _Compris_?".

"Yes Chef!".

Chef Inui, chef Mizuhara, Chef Gadouta dashed out of the basement kitchen as if the Grim Reaper was right on their heels, not glancing behind them and obliterating the match from their minds. Chef Sekimori followed as briskly as his _geta_ allowed, also not wanting to delay and get caught in some aftermath from Chef Chapelle's volcanic anger. Chef Chapelle grunted and muttered something course under his breath in French before turning around to level the rest of the occupants of the basement kitchen who were frozen like deers in monster truck headlights.

"Well?", he seethed some more.

"I'll take care of them Chef Chapelle", said Chef Doujima.

Megumi released a shaky breath while Souma-kun tried to steady her. Chef Doujima stepped forward and offered a placating smile towards the irate French chef as he addressed his old lecturer. Chef Chapelle went back into his grumbling mood and gave one last glare at Chef Doujima and the students. Megumi thought they were all going to be on his blacklist from now on.

"Fine. Meet me in your office, first thing tomorrow. Make sure all the students get back to their hotel rooms safely", Chef Chapelle bit out.

"Of course".

Chef Doujima offered another confident smile, which did nothing to improve the elderly chef's mood. He turned around and stomped out of the basement kitchens. Megumi released a breath that was stuck in her chest. Too many heart attacks and stress in one day!

"What's going to happen now?", Mitsunaga-kun asked Chef Doujima.

"Unfortunately we have no verdict. The alumni have disappeared with their tails tucked between their legs without giving it and it's impossible to have another unofficial _shokuegki_ now that Chef Chapelle will be monitoring everything like a hawk from this night onwards".

He turned to Nakiri-san and Mitsunaga-kun.

"I guess the both of you will continue the training camp", he declared.

"Alright! Whoo!"

Souma cheered and grabbed Mitsunag-kun around the shoulders then yanked his arm up in the air. The handsome, dark haired teen yelped at being caught in Souma-kun's victory dance and he bounced around like a limp _udon_ trying to catch up with the energetic maverick chef.

"The three of you, go back to your rooms. Nakiri-kun, please stay behind".

"Huh?", Nakiri Erina turned around and looked at Chef Doujima with confusion.

"Let's get out of here, guys".

Souma-kun grabbed Mitsunaga-kun and herself by the elbow and dragged them out of the basement and into the cold corridor of the Resort's side wing. The last thing she saw was Nakiri-san's envious glare.

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* * *

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"Why am I held back, Chef Doujiima", Erina stated, more than asked.

"I wanted to impart something to you, Nakiri-kun. I've read all the files of the students that were taking part in the training camp, so that we alumni chefs could properly judge each student. There is something you should know about Mitsunaga Yozora before you judge him and his methods".

Erina crossed her arms again. "That is?".

"Before he transferred to Tootsuki in the third year of middle school…" Doujima-sama paused.

Erina quirked her eyebrow, not caring that it might have appeared rude.

 _"… He was a classically trained musician"._

"Wh-What?"

Erina was floored with disbelief. The warmth from her body abandoned her quickly as she was left hanging with this piece of information. She was breathless. It was as if the impact of that statement alone knocked every wisp of air from her lungs, and Erina stood there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. She was utterly stunned as the words 'classically trained musician' bounced around in her skull. Was there any end to Mitsunaga Yozora's bag of 'heart attack'?

"Why?".

"You might have to ask him yourself. As you can see, Mitsunaga-kun's concept of combining videogame music or _any_ music for that matter, into the culinary arts isn't as juvenile as you think. He already has an _elite_ professional background in music. I suppose his preference and taste lies in videogame music as a modern category that young men are so fond of. Therefore his conception for his unique cooking style should be well-founded. In other words, he knows _exactly_ what he's doing".

Erina shook.

"Please keep this in mind for when you next encounter him. It's getting late now. You should hurry to bed", said Chef Doujima.

Erina's legs dragged as if weighed down like clay boots, drawing closer and closer to the door. She had to leave quickly; Hisako had to be waiting for her. Suddenly, she heard the tinkering of a single coin hitting the surface of one of the two remaining serving dishes on the kitchen counter and her head flicked up.

But she kept moving forward.

She dared not look back, fearing of knowing whose plate, the coin had landed on.

* * *

 **Bam! Shinomiya got his revenge on all of them! The whole group got busteeeeed hehehe.**

 **The winner of the _shokugeki_ between Erina and Yozora are up to you readers' imagination :)**

 **Erina got a slice of humble pie in the most unexpected way. Well, we can't a judge a book by its covers can we. This is a learning curve for Erina, she could kick and scream all she wants about how unfair things are and how people are not fitting into her mould and blah blah blah, but hey... it's all about the growing pains right? Hang in their Erina! I'm with you all the way :D**

 **Please let me know what you think! Until next time, live long and prosper!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	5. Relax and Reflect

_Chapter 5 - Relax and Reflect_

* * *

 _ **Tootsuki Resort - Final Day**_

" _'Four hours until the next challenge'_ , they said. _'Get some rest'_ , they said. If that's not sarcasm then I'll offer _instant_ coffee to Kasai- _senpai_ and wait for him to say thank you".

Yozora's body spiralled into exhaustion, but he forced his feet to keep moving. He threw his heavy arms in circles around and around, slicing through the air with _whooshes_ as he wandered down the empty corridor. The muscles stretched and hummed in his tight shoulders and his joints popped in the most pleasurable way, but not satisfying enough. The President of _The Guild_ had emerged from the grand breakfast hall, still drunk on the adrenaline of breakfast rush, but it would only be temporary. The tiredness for the past few days came in both forms: physical and mental. The body needed rest, but the mind needed it to move, to burn the anxiety right out. He didn't bother to unwrap his smartphone from his sore arms and his bluetooth earpieces still sat comfortably in his ear, whispering soft and calming delights as he let the melody tease out the stress from his system. He had pushed it to low volume as soon as he got out, letting it lull him as he dragged his feet against the plush carpet. He didn't bother to think of where he was going as the large corridor seemed endless and was lined with an infinite number of huge windows with beams of sunlight shining through with no resistance.

He let the music take him.

He itched to smooth down the ruffled inky strands at the back of his head.

The alumni must be joking. As if any of them could take a break when the _final boss_ was on the horizon. If he was a video game character nearing the end of the _'Friendship Building Dungeon'_ , then he was probably almost out of _elixirs_ by now and with absolutely no new friends to make. No _save points_ here hundred and seventy-five dishes later, he felt like _that_ night Tsurugi _-senpai_ hosted his infamous _LAN party_ in his and Kasai- _senpai's_ apartment. By the end, he and Hayato-kun were wasted, depleted… and wondering why their team's _healer_ always played favourites.

The song started to blend into the background, hypnotising him and he saw ripples in is periphery following everything his eyes landed on. Was it lack of oxygen? Who knew, it could be the side-effect of participating in _Tootsuki's_ dogmatic curriculum. While he entrusted his body to autopilot, his mind went _AFK_ for a few moments, and threw back a few hours when they had been getting ready to set up everything they needed for their inventive egg-themed breakfast buffet dish.

He chose _**Track Eight**_ for its catchier quality. The plucks of the flamenco guitar, along with the casual drums and piano had come together to sound so smooth, perfect for relaxing in the suite of a nice hotel. Yozora had a soft spot for contemporary jazz. The cutthroat atmosphere of the training camp had needed something uplifting, something to calm his nerves so that he could knuckle down without bursting his stitches. It wouldn't do for the hotel guests to see how stressed he was while cooking their breakfast either, so with quick thinking, he'd chosen his feel-good track from the _'Hidden Tracks' album_ to transfer his lazy Sunday vibes into their dish, then into their souls.

He wasn't in the same section as Hayato-kun, nor with anyone else did he know very well. He wondered how Hayato-kun, Yukihira, Tadokoro-san and the rest of Polar Star Dorm were going.

'… _She should be finished by now, too'._

Hold up.

He came back _online._ Heat crept up his cheeks. Was he an idiot? Of course _she_ was finished! She was the Tenth Seater on the Elite Ten. Yozora grunted and popped two painkiller capsules into his mouth and gulped it down. His scalp hardly ached thanks to the quality painkillers. It might've throbbed a few times before he tried to ignore it and willed the pills to work right away once the first wave of guests flooded the breakfast hall. He already forgave Nakiri for tackling him off the balcony, and even when she left him in the infirmary to wake up not knowing what the hell happened and had to hear it from the clinic nurse. Well… at least she didn't leave him blacked out, cold, wet and alone on the grass to be welcomed by the early morning sunlight next to the bloodied cobblestone which lined the _koi_ pond. He didn't think he'd see her again so soon after that bizarre occurrence, but he did when they were both summoned into Chef Doujima's office. She threw an apology at him which was unexpected, but welcomed. So he guessed that was something.

' _Chef Doujima saw through my bullshit'._

What compelled him to… lie… and protect her in the first place? He had no definitive answer. Hayato-kun had told him he was being a chicken and that he should've told Chef Doujima the truth immediately and dance in the ashes of Nakiri's finished _Tootsuki_ life. It was ironic because one of his blonde friend's favourite mottos was _'snitches end up in ditches'_. Either way, it didn't… feel right… and he had no words to explain it except that his heart clenched at the thought of Nakiri getting thrown under the bus for something that was no longer a big deal to him.

' _Apart from that night… she's never done anything to me'._

He truly believed Nakiri Erina didn't mean to send them both over the balcony. She must've been so overwhelmed by being caught in an unflattering position with him; both dressed in their sleeping _yukata_ after a fresh bath _._ She probably didn't know what she was doing when she throttled was another thing Hayato-kun had said how it didn't make a difference because she always sat on her high horse, harshly criticised everyone in the school and deserved what was coming to her, feeling guilty or not. Right now, the stitches proved he had the power to make her suffer because he was sure even the Nakiri heiress wasn't totally immune to guilt and couldn't get away with violently assaulting another student. It was also evidence of her imperfection... She was a slave to her emotions, like any other human. The way she fidgeted, twisted and turned in her seat from the corner of his eyes that afternoon in Chef Doujima's office brought him satisfaction and he was careful not to show it. Her face had been as red a beetroot and actually radiated heat like a hot pan. He could've cooked a three-course-meal on her face and he had the _perfect_ song for it.

It was obvious no matter how much she tried to hide it with her nonchalance… he could plainly see she had felt remorseful and embarrassed. Like a parent catching out their kids in a pathetic lie.

She apologised.

That was enough for him.

Humiliation wasn't an emotion. It was a weapon wielded without a trace of pity in front of a thirsty audience. He wouldn't do that to her even if she was the most caustic, critical, arrogant and entitled little diva in the world.

That was not how Father raised him.

Yozora smirked as he spotted a turn in the corridor in front of him. He would tease her for sure, just keeping it between the two of them, a bit of fun on the side. He first had made sure there was an understanding between himself and Yukihira, that the red-headed diner chef wouldn't tell anyone either, mainly because it wasn't his business anyway. Hayato-kun would shut his mouth too if he knew what was good for him. The dark-haired teen would go as far as to 'remind' her a bit here and there, just to see her rile up against him.

It was kind of attractive.

He paused.

' _Oh boy'._

Yozora slapped both his hands over his face. Kill him now. He didn't know what to say to himself that could reverse his wandering thoughts. Even the jazzcrooning in his ears shrugged and kept on jamming, oozing the addictive mellow _staccatos_ of the chilled-out flamenco guitar right into his soul. He was peculiarly conscious of the girl. She carried her arrogance and elite status around like a vegan out to ruin a barbeque. Her nose wrinkled at everything, which meant she would age faster. Her lips tended to pinch together when she was annoyed which was all the damn time. Finally, she flicked her hair around in front of people so they could get a whiff of what they couldn't reach. Why Yozora should have had these thoughts, he could not for the life of him say.

' _I'm too tired, I can't think straight. I need a nap'._

He could hear Tsurugi- _senpai's_ imaginary voice berating him, booming _'Sleep is for the weak! Stay alert!'_ He would be right, but damn his upperclassman wasn't here. What if he took a quick nap outside in the bushes? He could set his phone alarm for the next challenge. A light slumber in the glades would do the trick and bring his _HP_ up in no time.

' _Then again… I could end up with Nakiri on my chest, once more'._

He cringed.

That thought sounded as awkward as the first time, but not as unwelcomed as before, but twice was enough, thanks. When he invited her to listen to _Aerith's Theme_ and peruse his _FINAL FANTASY VII_ recipe book a couple of nights ago, her face transformed like no other, and it was like a true miracle. Her eyes had widened and softened, and her soft gasp had fanned against his recipe book like a warm breeze. Her lips were opened, poised in wonder, bright and plump like peaches. He never knew that under the hubris, sharp tongue, condescending glares and airs-and-grace that such a beautiful creature could reside. She looked so innocent and wholesome. He had wanted to keep being mesmerised by her as much as time would allow, while she cautiously indulged him and listened to the song, unaware that its powerful effects had been coaxing out this softer and curious side.

He sighed.

Yozora was about to turn the corner when a distant sound commanded his attention. He paused his track and popped out his Bluetooth earpieces. He pocketed them and listened closely, tuning his sensitive ears to the different yet familiar sound. It was getting louder, and closer. He recognised it as light feminine humming.

" _Hmm, hmm, hmmmmmm~… hmm, hmm, hmmmmmm~"._

' _Aerith's Theme?'._

Yozora's tilted his head. He slowly approached the corner and turned to see who was humming one of the most famous video-game soundtrack of all time. Who could it be? His eyes almost fell out of his sockets. Nakiri! It took a second or two for the visual and auditory information to sink in, even though it was right before his eyes, larger than life! Well, well, well… Her gold-spun hair swayed from side to side as she headed towards his direction. The sun rays bathed her skin in a shining glow, highlighting her softness. She looked so relaxed and serene despite completing the grinding eggs challenge. She appeared untouched by the cruel hands of stress and pressure. Her white chef's uniform clung to her and it was spotless. Her eyes were closed as she hummed, but her voice was out of practice and she got the high pitched notes wrong. She remembered the song he showed her! Yozora felt his lips stretch wider and wider into a gaping grin and his eyebrows arched for the sky. He was touched.

Then he hid immediately.

Yozora plastered himself against the wall. Urgh. It would probably be a bad idea if they bumped into each other again. Her emotions might get the best of her again as soon as she catches sight of his mug. She might throw him out the window this time. Then the doctor might need to pull glass out of his face and get more stitches. Then they would get in trouble all over again, blah, blah, blah. Urgh… girls were so troublesome. Yozora frowned. She looked ethereal as she strutted down the corridor, so carefree. That figured. She passed the assignment like a piece of cake and maintained her beautiful appearance. He wasn't supposed to find her this attractive… Yozora supposed he was like another other guy with guy-thoughts. She had a nice chest, strong thighs, rounded arse. In the looks department, he gave her two thumbs-up. However her personality needed a lot of work and he pitied the guy who would end up with _her_. He could barely tolerate her. But it didn't change the fact that he still found her attractive and she made him sweat. He blamed this whole **dungeon.** He hardly got a wink of sleep; he was almost concussed and went through gruesome tasks with the demonic Tootsuki alumni, _with stitches on his head!_ Yeah, his brain was all screwed up and was liable to run away with all sorts of weird imaginations. He really wanted a nap. Maybe he could visit the infirm—

"Ahem!".

Oops.

The Nakiri princess herself was standing right in front of him tapping her foot on the carpet. Her irritation came through the wall with a palpable force. Her arms crossed just under her ample chest, not really helping _his_ situation at all. Her brows were quirked demanding some sort of answer and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her violet eyes cut into him through tight slits. Maybe if he pressed himself back against the wall enough he could disguise himself as an embossed feature that the _Tootsuki_ resort paid good money for, and she would go away. Fuck, he couldn't think straight with her whip-lashing her fiery annoyance at him in his personal space. Her eyes managed to look around the corridor and roved over him, before settling on his dumbfounded face. He only managed to do was snap his arms to his side and just… stared back. He should've turned back while he had the chance

"What are you doing, skulking around the corridor?". She demanded.

"Umm… nothing?".

Yeah, that wasn't _at all_ a suspicious thing to say. Fucking sleep-deprived brain! He was as a loss for words. Yozora stared into the deep violet eyes burning with a hundred-percent _doubt._ She scoffed and shook her head. He could see it in her eyes, she thought he was a peeping tom, a stalker hiding in the shadows, and was totally judging him. She clicked her tongue. A heavy silence blanketed them them thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. His unsettled eyes were tempted to graze at everything else in the opulent corridor to avoid looking at her, but they refused.

"Nothing?".

"I finished the breakfast challenge, so I'm taking a break. What of it?". He shrugged.

Yozora flicked his long fringe from out of his eyes and pushed his hands into his chef's pants pockets. He exhaled through his nose, gently relaxed against the wall and lowered his head towards her smaller frame, pretending that the awkward encounter wasn't rattling him at all. He tried to play it cool, like Tsurugi- _senpai_ taught him in _'How Not to be a Dweeb in front of Girl's Two-Day Workshop'_.

"I see. Good for you, Mitsunaga".

Oh that went better than expected.

"H-How's your head?".

"Alright".

There was a small softening around the corners of her eyes as she looked upon him. Even her voice lost their usual edge. He didn't expect her to enquire about his well-being. She really was a surprising girl. Yozora furrowed his brows. The change in his expression must have caught her off guard because visibly backed up a bit. He remembered to blink a few times. Hayato-kun did always recommend him to blink every now and then to appear normal and human. Also, it was almost as if she remembered how he covered for her in Doujima's office. Her face bloomed with that distinct blush which she had so much trouble keeping down. She stepped away from him, but didn't leave. This piqued his curiosity further.

"Why did you do it?", asked Nakiri.

Yozora frowned further. His fringe fell across his eyes again as he peered at her through the black curtain.

"Do what?".

"Lie. You could've told Chef Doujima the truth, that I… _accosted_ you". She murmured through gritted teeth.

"There wasn't a need for me to do that". Yozora replied.

She stepped forward to him hurriedly. The tall, lanky student stiffened, his hands flew out of his pocket, ready to defend himself with his go-to _karate_ move, but it proved to be unneeded as Nakiri simple stood toe-to-toe with him with this weird look on her heart-shaped face, as if she thought he said either the most incredible thing, or the most stupidest thing in the universe.

"But it was my fault!" she shouted point blank. "You cut your head because of me, so you were well within your rights to call me out to Chef Doujima. What kind of idiot would keep it to themselves?".

"So, you want me to go tell Chef Doujima, right now?".

"Uh… umm n-no…".

Nakiri was reduced back to the hunched and squirming girl who sat on Chef Doujima's guest chair the other night. What the hell did she want from him?! Urgh! Girls were confusing! She chewed on her lip and Yozora wished she would stop that as she glared at the carpet with hateful eyes. He also wished she would stop shouting at him. Yozora grunted a sigh and leaned back against the wall, completely spent and done with her baffling animosity.

"Getting you into trouble wouldn't achieve anything for me. Just because a tonne of other people want to see you get your just desserts, it doesn't mean I do".

Nakiri looked up out of the corner of her eyes and glared at him with suspicion again, searching him for some sort of hidden agenda but honestly, Yozora had nothing to hide. His head was okay as long as he visited the infirmary and gets his stitches removed when it was time, take painkillers, shower carefully, be careful of how he put his headphones on and sleep on his face, he'd be fine and fit as a fiddle later. Through this _dungeon,_ he aspired to be like those video game characters that constantly receive hundreds of damage points but still get up on their feet. Yeah… that was _not_ a realistic goal… _he really needed sleep._

"Then I suppose… I should say thank—".

"Shhh!".

Yozora picked up something in the distance. It echoed enough for him to hear, like Nakiri's out of tune humming. He pressed his fingers over her soft lips to stop them flapping, as he carefully tuned his ear again. He felt Nakiri slap his hand off her face and splutter, but he didn't care. The hair on his arms rose as he heard another voice around the corner of the corridor. It was silky, smooth and utterly seductive.

" _My manager wasn't happy about some cancelled meeting he was supposed to have with you the other day. He was sulking, Doujima-san. I didn't even know there was to be a meeting, care to fill me in?"._

Yozora peeked and saw the back of an incredibly beautiful woman. She was tall slender and carried an awesome grace about her. She had short moonlit hair which shimmered in the morning sun. It was carefully ruffled and was styled with kinks in them, giving her a bit of a Western contemporary look. She was dressed in these, ballooning pants that were made of some red silky fabric. They were tight around her slim ankles and her waist, allowing them to puff here and there whenever she moved. She wore really high rose-gold heels that made Yozora want to roll his eyes. Her shoulders were bare, revealing creamy alabaster skin which had a small birthmark just near the tops of her left shoulder blade. The rest of her body was covered was in an off-shoulder silky, white shirt which was tucked into the high-waist of her genie pants. The fabric flowed around her skin, perfectly pressed. She wore thin bangles around her slim wrists which clinked together when they reached around…

… CHEF DOUJIMA'S NECK.

' _I'm gonna puke!'._

Yozora blanched as his head hung shamefully from around the corner watching this beautiful, sultry woman kiss the huge, bald, intimidating chef full on the mouth. Her fingers moved to cradle his face like a lover would. Yozora couldn't tear his eyes away as he was held prisoner at the sight of the formidable, business suit-clad Chef Doujima sucking faces with this… this… he didn't know who this was. A girlfriend? A fiancé? _WIFE!?_ Yozora dared not speculate further. There was a mischievous twinkling in the resort's head chef's eyes as he smiled down at the gorgeous woman in his arms. The _Tootsuki_ alumni held her securely around the waist with his large hands almost spanning her entire waist as if she was a precious piece of china. She was a good head shorter than him, emphasising Chef Doujima's impressive height. He felt Nakiri press against his back as she too peeked around to the corner to see what was going on. Her small gasp left shivers against his neck as she too, openly gaped at the spectacle. They weren't supposed to see this!

" _He wanted to discuss about the resort's catering services for your upcoming charity performance. But I had two Tootsuki students I needed to speak to regarding serious misconduct, then another event had over-taken me which I couldn't ignore. I apologise"._

" _My charity ball is for a very just cause. Therefore it needs the best food. My people, including myself, don't take kindly to being rescheduled, so how do you plan on making it up to me?"._ The mysterious woman chuckled lowly.

" _Perhaps I could offer you another free dinner"._

" _Last night's free meal from you ended up… messier than expected"._

TOO.

MUCH.

INFORMATION.

Yozora convulsed as he gagged. He blocked out his ears and shut he eyes just after Chef Doujima's own brown eyes darkened with a carnal light before swooping down to capture the beautiful woman's lips in a hungry kiss. Nakiri was like a deer stuck in headlights and the gamer ripped her away from the corridor until she crashed her back against his chest with a soft _'oomph!'_. They both panted heavily and Yozora couldn't believe what he heard and saw. He needed to blast some insane _Devil May Cry_ battle music to purify his ears later. Nakiri looked absolutely mortified as she covered her ears and shook right down to her shoes.

 _"It's a shame that I have to skip breakfast. I need to be on my flight to Osaka in an hour. I do wish I could try some of your student's dishes before I leave"._

 _"I'll have my sou-chef prepare a few selections for you and you can eat it on your way to the airport"._

 _"Thanks, Doujima-san"._

Shit. They were heading in their direction.

"Come on, we need to get out of here before Chef Doujima catches us and opens a nice, cold can of whoop-ass". Yozora whispered.

"W-What?".

Yozora gathered Nakiri's hand and dragged her down the opposite corridor. He remembered he passed by an enormous set of double doors when he got out of the breakfast hall. If he remembered correctly, it was tall and grey with burnished silver handles. It should have four expertly carved panels which gave it depth and texture. Nakiri was soon matching his pace as she hurried from behind. Both their palms sweated as they remained glued together, skating along the edges of the expensive wallpaper as Yozora keenly searched for the doors. He found it.

"In there!".

His other hand closed around the cool metal handle, and pushed it open. It yielded with a soft sigh which spoke of its well-maintained hinges. Yozora swung Nakiri around like a rag-doll as he skidded to a halt as soon as they were through the doors. He threw her behind him as he closed the door with a big push, the handles clicking back together again. The Nakiri princess was about to open her mouth and retort, but he huddled her to the side of the door. He shushed her again which made her snap her mouth together and fume silently from his side.

" _Are some student's finished already?"._

Yozora held his breath and Nakiri did the same. Chef Doujima and the woman was now right outside the door!

" _Some should be"._

" _Oh… I thought I saw someone disappear through here. It must've been my imagination"._

" _The students have a little over three hours to get ready for the next assignment, so they shouldn't be loitering around"._

Yozora released his breath in a huge gush once Chef Doujima and his lady-friend continued on their way; right pass the huge double doors. They positioned themselves right next to the door jam, that if anyone were to open the double doors, they were be instantly hidden behind it. Their cheery muffled voices becoming smaller and smaller as their conversation carried on while they walked towards the grand breakfast hall. He sank into himself. Nakiri clutched onto his right arm panting against him, her face almost hiding against his shoulder. His taught muscles slowly relaxed, as the imminent danger dissipated and he felt her heartbeat returned to normal sinus rhythm.

"Are they gone?". Nakiri whispered.

"Yeah…".

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

"OW! Hey!".

As soon as Mitsunaga provided confirmation, she let go of his thin arm and gave him a good jab to the ribs. He floundered before doubling over to nurse his sore. His eyes shot up at her, imploring. Erina thought she might explode. When the frustration built up, she needed a release valve and pummeling Mitsunaga seemed the next best thing. She took deep breaths. She wanted to shout, have a tantrum, and beat her fists on his chest like a toddler. She wanted to vent on how much of a nuisance he was to her, but given their situation, she didn't want to say words she didn't mean… His soon to be scar proved how it was so easy to do whatever she pleased to exact her frustration, and then the damage was done. She shook her head and flicked her fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She took two breaths in and out. She was ready.

"Why is it always a _weirdo_ like you who ruins everything… Honestly! You don't have to be so dram— Huh?! Where did you go?".

Erina opened her eyes and was about to give him a piece of her mind but the spot beside here was completely void of the student in question. The emptiness was glaring and her impatience was overwhelmed by her bemusement. Her frown fell and she looked around trying to find where on Earth he scurried off sun in this room was strong. Was this one of the ballrooms? The sunlight painted the marble floor with trapezoids of sweet honey through the mullioned windows. The rays of brightness reflected on several objects in the room which was decorated with opulent lounge furniture. She blinked a few times, in an attempt to help her eyes adjust to the illumination directed right at her figure.

In the front-and-centre was a grand piano.

Beside it was Mitsunaga.

Erina's words died on her lips. He stood there, straight and tall, nothing like the hunched lanky boy who always hid between his big headphones. His hand was gliding along the ebony wood of the grand structure, as if caressing a majestic wild horse. The grand piano was shiny and pitch-black. It moulded into the stage like it belonged there and nowhere else. His usually piecing cobalt eyes were so far away, so distant, trapped in from kind of forlorn memory. It caught her by surprise by how changeable those twin sapphires were. It was as if she and the training camp ceased to exist in his world.

"What are you—".

Mitsunaga lifted the lid and the ivory eyes emerged into view, like tiny white soldier ready to do battle in the war of music. Along the wood that lined the top of each key were curling letters ' _Steinway & Sons'_. The name was as elegant as the musical instruments itself.

* * *

.

" _Before he transferred to Tootsuki in the third year of middle school… he was a classically trained musician"._

 _._

* * *

' _He… played the piano…'._

True to her thoughts, Mitsunaga lowered himself regally onto the piano chair like a prince in his own home. His posture was perfectly confident and he made it look so easy. His chin was tilted up, respectful of the beautiful instrument before him. His shoulders were relaxed and his arms were carefully raised as he ghosted his limber fingers against the keys like, using his muscle memory. He hadn't pressed a single key, but Erina felt her feet take her to him. Her shoes clicked across the marble until she reached the small stage. A powerful aura emanated from the student and it washed over her and suddenly she was no longer in her element. She felt like she stepped into a world that had no place for her. The hotel disappeared, the kitchens disappeared, the student chefs and the alumni disappeared. It was just him and the piano.

This was his realm.

"Do you want to know what I made for the breakfast challenge?".

Erina blinked. Did he ask her something? She back-tracked and realised he did. She replayed the words and didn't know why he was asking her a random question. He turned to her and his deep blue eyes sucked her in. If it were anyone, she would drop her gaze, but with him Erina was drawn closer wanting to know more… what was more to this boy? What other secrets did he hold? His eyes glittered with nostalgia and a small smile played on his lips, as if he was daring her to ask. He would be right because she was now, beyond curious for what sort of dish he invented and what ridiculous video-game music compelled him to concoct it to fit his twisted view of culinary arts. His cheeky countenance burned something inside of her and sent her stomach vaulting over hurdles at the tiny smile. Her cheeks did what it did best and flushed right up her face and down to her neck. That smirk would be the death of her.

"No. I don't care".

" _ **Track Eight** "._

"Oh, for _Kami-sama's_ sake…".

He chuckled lowly, his frame slightly shaking in his exertion. His eyes left her as if he got what he wanted. It was a warm laugh and the baritone of his voice reverberated through Erina's bone, leaving her wanting to hear _that_ rather than the gaming music rubbish that spilled from his lips.

"Listen. This is my dish".

Erina frowned. She shifted her position and leaned on one leg, jutting her hips out and stabilising herself as she rolled her eyes. He was going to show her one way or another, she didn't have a choice did she? Suddenly, his fingers danced across the keys, quick as a sparrow. Erina was taken aback. His skill was… He really was a skilled musician! His longer bony fingers alighted first on the ebony and then glided on ivory. This was jazz. He was playing _jazz music._ From Erina's knowledge, jazz was a very difficult genre to play. Only the most talented and most experienced musician could execute jazz without butchering carefully formed harmonies, timing and tones. Occasionally, the fluid motions of his frolicking fingers was punctuated by skipping notes and trills or a graceful leap as he jumped his left over his right fingers expertly and with practiced eased. His head bent slightly towards the keys, his smirk now a relaxed smile. There were no notes in front of him; he only played with notes in his head. Slowly the music seemed to fill the room to the brim, spilling over the leather lounges and armchairs, glass coffee tables, side table and pedestals.

' _No way…'._

Amazement didn't begin to cover it for Erina. It felt like Mitsunaga just took a spark of wonder, and poured oil over it. Every neuron in her brain fired off in different directions at once. She was paralysed. She was transported to a world and time where there was no such thing as expectation and over-achieving. Everything was pure, calm and serene.

Finally Mitsunaga finished with a playful flourish. His fingers hung in the air for a few moments before floating down to his lap and Erina realised it was eerily similar to the way he finished arranging one of the ingredients on his dish from the unofficial _shokugeki_ the other night. Did he cook in the same way as he played the piano? Each ingredient was an ivory or ebony key, each method was a musical technique?

Mitsunaga turned towards her with a soft smile and soft gaze.

"What did you think?".

Her words were stuck again. She felt transfixed in the moment, at a loss for words, speechless by his mere presence at the piano. She could admit it was the most incredible thing she'd ever heard from a piano. Was he asking her to judge his dish? Or judge his music? She didn't know how to make this decision.

"It… sounded nice".

He hummed and closed the lid of the piano. The gentle low thud echoed across the room. Then he twisted around so that he straddled the piano chair, facing her. He leaned back onto his hands, which gripped the leather between long fingers, as if he was about to lower himself to lie on the chair. The smirk came back and he direct right at her. This posture instantly reminded her of when she fell on him in the bushes! The way he propped up onto his elbow as she was flat against his chest, not daring to move! _Grrr…_ she told him never to mention it again! But he wasn't… he was… teasing her by _showing…_ His eyes turned smug as if the bastard knew he was seriously gifted in the piano and the way he played the song was more than just _nice_ and was letting her have her escape from answering truthfully. He also knew that this way, she couldn't even judge his 'dish' with her God's Tongue!

"You thought I was just an _otaku_ and a gaming junkie, didn't you".

Erina rolled her eyes. Of course she did until Chef Doujima dropped a bombshell on her. What on Earth was he doing at _Tootsuki?!_ It was a great leap from being a trained musician to studying to be a chef. It appeared despite the massive sea-change, he still carried music with him, it was a quintessential part of him which he couldn't shake off and so he wove it into his cooking.

But video-game music? _Really?_

"You are". She deadpanned.

He snorted but his smirk didn't break.

"At least you think something of me". He quipped.

Mitsunaga pulled himself up but he kept on straddling the seat. Erina slightly bristled at the quick movement of his body drawing closer to hers. A waft of his grassy scent teased her nostrils and she cursed at the way it affected her and how the boy had no idea. She calmed down again and stood there contemplating about what she heard, what that meant, and how it tied everything that had happened between them in this camp.

"My cooking is more than just a collection of ingredients chemically matched together and cooked in exact methods to blend and strengthen their flavours. It's a _story telling._ What does your cooking say about you? What story do you want to tell?".

Erina's cheeks twitched.

"My cooking doesn't need to tell a story. Even if it did, I wouldn't need _video-game_ _music_ to aide me". She retorted.

Mitsunaga released a bark of laughter.

"That's okay. Video-music isn't for everyone. And some people haven't experienced enough to tell a story yet either".

"What makes you think I don't have one?".

Mitsunaga's eyes widened. He scooted closer to her until he was just on the edge of the piano chair. He placed his palms between his legs, pushing the leather down as he leaned towards her. Erina took a step back, letting him know that his proximity was treading on her propriety but it didn't deter him. His sapphire eyes bored into her without respect for her boundaries. His eyes scoured hers and she genuinely feared he might uncover something she had desperately tried to hide her whole life. He focused on her like a cat fixated on a prey and it made Erina's heart skip a beat.

He cocked his head to the side and lifted himself up. Erina watched him carefully so see what he would do next, feeling her face heat up once more and the overwhelming urge to cover her body from his penetrating eyes. He shimmied off the piano chair and came to stand in front of her. Up close, she only reached his chin and his warmth was almost tangible to her skin.

"Ah… so you do. It's not a happy one, is it".

Ice dripped down her spine.

She felt a piece of herself break… and he picked it up. The last assessment task for the training camp was far from her mind. She could feel herself slipping and the only person who could catch her was Mitsunaga Yozora. She could feel it in her heart. However she refused.

"Th-That's none of you business!". She defended.

"Oh? It's written so clearly on your face right now. Was it that bad?", he leaned closer.

Erina had had enough.

"You have some nerve digging in places you have no right!".

"I was just curious".

"Then I shall extend you the same courtesy. Why did you quit being a classical musician?".

Mitsunaga's face fell faster than lightning striking the ground. In that instant his skin became pale, his mouth hung with lips slightly parted and his eyes were as wide as they stretched. He glanced nervously to the side as sheen of melancholy clouded his crystalline gaze and Erina felt so distant from him even though they were only mere inches apart. Erina had tried to piece together the facts on her own. She didn't what to tell Hisako about this revelation. She thought it was something… private and that if anyone else knew something this profound about Mitsunaga Yozora, it wouldn't sit comfortably with her. Chef Doujima implied that he was already employed as a musician. He didn't say he was _studying_ to be a classical musician before he transferred, but that he _already was._ But at the age of thirteen or fourteen years old in the third year of middle school!? He must have graduated _extremely_ early! Which in turn meant he must have been a _music prodigy_ to accomplish such a feat. That was the only conclusion that made sense to her. The niggling curiosity became stronger and stronger over the days and it wouldn't leave her alone.

"How did you know?".

"I have my ways", she said evenly.

He finally looked up from the cold and floor and into her eyes. They were guarded and his smile was empty.

"Sorry Nakiri. That quest is _locked"._

.

.

.

* * *

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.

.

 _ **Residential Apartments**_

"Kasai-senpai! Tsurugi-senpai! WE'RE FREAKIN' HOME!".

Yozora barely made it back to reality. He was still drugged up on sleep. They only traveled for a few hours out of the prefecture, but it still felt like he was suffering jet lag. He yawned as he dragged his suitcase and travel luggage through the threshold of the apartment he shared with Hayato-kun. The track that played Yozora into dreamland on the coach was a special song he listened to during the last day of the training camp a thousand times and he still couldn't get enough. The chords were like a well-worn path, one his brain followed so willingly. It was the same song he 'played by ear' in the grand and comfortable Tootsuki guest lounge for Nakiri on the piano. Smooth jazz had lulled him into such a relaxed state that in moments, he had been completely conked out on the coach, body relaxed, breathing steadily.

"Ah, welcome back, boys", Kasai- _senpai's_ voice oozed like honey.

Yozora adjusted the neck pillow and rubbed the grit and sleep from his eyes. He was glad to be back. He tiredly beamed at seeing his two _senpais_ casually hanging out in his and Hayato-kun's apartment, waiting for them to come home from the training camp. Kasai- _senpai_ was sitting at the dining table dressed in his finest button up and trousers, complete with suspenders. His sleeves were perfectly rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms and an expensive watch. Before him was the latest iPad appropriately displaying _The Japan Times_ and a cup of what Yozora knew to be single-origin cold-drip coffee in his favourite guest cup. He had a light smile on his face as he watched the two teenagers struggle to haul their things in with mild sadistic tranquility. His sandy-blonde hair was swept up perfectly and his spectacle perched on his nose, making him look much more adult than anybody he'd ever seen in school. That was so like Kasai- _senpai._ He and his _Kansai_ accent were too classy for anything and for some reason it never rubbed Yozora, Hayato-kun or Tsurugi- _senpai_ up the wrong way. He elegantly placed his cup onto the saucer, but made no move to get up and help them. He had Tsurugi- _senpai_ for that.

"You made it in one piece eh? Kasai and I had a running bet to see which one of you would make it out alive", boomed Tsurugi- _senpai._

"Yeah? What were the odds".

"Not in your favour, squirt".

"HEY!".

The great beast eagerly lifted _BOTH_ their luggage into his huge arms and strode off towards their bedrooms. Yozora was wide awake now, never used to their _senpai's_ feat of strength. When Yozora first lumbered through the hallway, Tsurugi- _senpai_ was crashed on their couch with his laptop situated on the coffee table. He was dressed in cargo-pants, thick socks and a thick singlet which showed of his impressive physique. All he needed was to open a can of beer and he'd look like he was ready to turn their living into a man-cave. His mane of dark hair was ruffled and rugged as always and it appeared he didn't bother to shave this morning; his stubble peppered his strong chin. The burning hazel eyes beneath thick and heavy eyebrows greeted them with enthusiasm as he heaved himself from the couch, hearing the leather strain and a rumble from his chest.

"Good to be back. How was everything?".

"Fine. Your _senpai_ and I have been taking care of your apartment as promised. I must implore you to keep your quarters neat and tidy this time, as I won't be cleaning it again. Once was enough for me, thank you very much".

That was a half-hearted lie. Kasai- _senpai_ couldn't stand mess and chaos. He was a neat freak, in and out of the kitchen. He was _definitely_ going to end up cleaning his and Hayato-kun's rooms again if it ever got so bad. Good thing his two _senpais_ have spare keys.

"That training-camp was horrid!", Hayato-kun hollered from his bedroom.

The tell-tale sound of a body hitting the mattress made Yozora want to do the same and just fall back sleep and not wake up until next week. He had so many nap-times to catch up on and since that they've got an extra day off from school because of school board-meetings and whatever, he knew exactly how to spend it.

"Over three hundred students got expelled within five days! How fucked-up was that! Yo-kun and I did some crazy shit together too. We stole some tradies' lunches, I hosted 'D and D' with the Polar Star peeps, we cooked a bazillion servings of dinner and breakfast for these college dudes that were staying in the hotel. The alumni were there too and they were cruel, they have really messed up assessment tasks for us and they were really hard. The last part of the assessment was great! It was a celebration dinner for all of us who made it through. We were served the finest dishes by the alumni and it was heavenly. I couldn't stop crying while I ate! Also, Yo-kun cut his head open and hooked up with Nakiri Erina—".

"Whoa, back up squirt. Nakiri? Damn, Yozora. You're killing it with the Director's daughter now?".

"Your head _'cut open'_? Who, what, where, when, why and how", Kasai- _senpai_ asked sharply.

"NO and NO", shouted Yozora.

Yozora busied himself with unpacking his things, sorting between _'need to wash', 'it can last another day'_ and _'didn't wear'_. Oh, he also remembered he needed to switch shampoo and deodorant. He tried his best and failed to ignore the searing heat of Tsurugi- _senpai's_ gaze on his back, taunting him wherever he moved and hearing Kasai- _senpai_ finally getting out of his seat to refill his coffee. It wasn't his fault that the universe threw himself and Nakiri in each other's way one too many times. He was the sort of guy to roll with the punches… or with the tackles. Whatever. She was an oddity that he had a feeling that with the way fate was dishing on him, she was going to be a constant interruption for him. She had this obsession with perfection and being a perfectionist in her cooking, that he couldn't help but want… no… _need_ to convey to her that perfection was overrated. Perfect or what? Perfection was subjective. It was always measured against both personal and culturally changing criteria and if she didn't realise that, then she wasn't going to survive in the _real_ world.

A world that was always changing… moving forward… _a lot_ of people get left behind and if Nakiri wasn't careful, she was going to be one of them and she wouldn't even realise it until it was too late. Then there was the _other_ thing.

 _'She knows_ … _show knows who I used to be'._

But how? The memory of Nakiri standing there with those beautiful violet eyes asking him the one question he'd thought would never leave her supple lips shook him to the core.

She wanted the reason why he left his _Orchestra._

Who told her? Only _The Guild_ knew. He was catapulted through memories he wished to forget and he shut those down quicker than a snap of his fingers. He had been close to hyperventilating but the image of the strong sturdy piano provided him the support he needed. The scariest part was that… _he almost told her._

"Did you guys get a nice souvenir for us?", Tsurugi-senpai interrupted his thoughts.

Yozora jolted then breathed a sigh of sweet relief.

"Yeah!". Hayato-kun yelled. "Right here" then he promptly grabbed his nuts. This resulted in Tsurugi _-senpai_ suplexing his best friend right into the mattress.

He quickly banished those last thoughts on his mind and conjured the delightful memory of the ending of camp. Ha! The enigmatic twinkle in his eyes told him that his senpai's knew all along that there was a sweet-ass reward at the end of the camp. The very last task was magnificent. It wasn't a task at all, but it was actually a fine-dining event to celebrate everyone passing. He and Nakiri had lost track of time in the room with the piano. It was only when Nakiri's phone went off, with her aide on the other side, crying and wailing for her mistress to return to the lobby that the next part of the assignment had been about to begin. They had rushed out of there and made it in time, only to be the last people arrive, earning them curious stares from the rest of the students. Yozora remembered his face being on fire as he had never been the centre of attention like that in his life as a _Tootsuki_ student. It was daunting and made him want to hide with his headphones. All that had been forgotten as soon as Chef Doujima announced their final task.

The Alumni Feast.

Yozora had almost fainted from sudden turn of expectation and the delicious aroma of food from the ballroom. He and Hayato-kun had indulged more than they thought was possible. He had started on a creamy cauliflower and cream of truffle soup. The white wisps had carved themselves into the air and had stretched to caress his nostrils, enticing him. It was a fine _entrée._ The main was a handsome fish dish. The waitress had laid a silver plate with ocean trout, its pink strips of flesh garnished with a dashing of French tarragon which made his mouth water. Then dessert had come. It had a slice of cherry torte. The pastry had been light in both colour and texture, with a thick golden brown crust, all of which contrasted beautifully with the cherry-red sauce and poured out of it. The torte was topped with a thin layer of snow-white icing sugar.

Throughout the meal, his and Nakiri's eyes made contact a few times before both had shied away to concentrate on their meal and the conversation flowing around them at separate tables… he wasn't going to reminisce any more than that.

"I'd love to hear more stories of your Herculean trials and… trysts, but I'm afraid you must recuperate later. The Guild has some business to attend to", came Kasai- _senpai's_ voice from the dining room.

"Hmm?". Yozora looked up.

"Someone has a _quest_ for us", growled Tsurugi-senpai.

"Quest already? What do we need to do and what are the rewards?". Hayato-kun popped his head out of his room, already half dressed in his clean pyjamas.

"Give me a second. I'll pull up the blog".

Tsurugi-senpai returned to the living room and anchored himself onto the couch again. The leather still hadn't returned to its original shape when Tsurugi-senpai left. Yozora and Hayato-kun didn't have the time to monitor The Guild's blog page and social media accounts during the camp and had left it to their ex-President and their _senpai_ to take care of. Since the start of the school year, their _quest log_ had been empty. Looked like things were starting to pick up again. Tsurugi- _senpai_ leaned forward with his muscular thighs spread apart to make room for his balls, and clicked a few buttons here and there until finally their blog opened up and clicked on the _ask box_ _._

"Alright. It's some small games and arcade shop. The owner heard about us from his nephew who saw us promoting at the TGS last year. Their business has recently slumped and the poor bloke is in some need of assistance to attract more customers… A bunch of other cafes, take-out places and small restaurants around them have been badly suffering too… customers are no longer coming back to their district so it's like a ghost town. A lot of the food establishments have already closed down… and his gaming and arcade shop there might be next".

"What happened?", asked Yozora.

"There's this new big-deal _kaarage senmonten_ franchise that opened up nearby which has been stealing all the customers, that's what. The school kids and people coming home at peak hour don't want to go to the shopping district to eat anymore, so they don't come by his gaming and arcades store either".

Tsurugi- _senpai_ summarised and paraphrased the _backstory_ of the _quest_ on their blog.

"And the reward?", Hayato-kun probed further.

"Cash, the _'Assassin's Creed Unity'_ game and the _''Sengoku Basara 4'_ game pre-order for free next year… and he's throwing in a head-set. The guy can't afford to give us any more than that".

"Hmm… We'll need to accumulate enough funds for the new _PlayStation 4_ next year then", commented Yozora.

"No worries! Let's do it!", Hayato-kun whooped as he got the rest of his pyjama bottoms on. "Where is the place?".

"Hmm I can't remember the name, didn't sound like anything familiar. Let me see… Ah fuck, I clicked close".

Yozora knew there was more. If their _quest location_ was a place they've never been to, it meant the loot and monetary rewards weren't the only thing they would gain. They would get access to new locations or areas. This would provide them further opportunities to gain more experience, level up their cooking skills, learn new technique and abilities, form partnerships and sponsors. They could get more information about the new location, the people, and the current trend in that place which could help them in further RS endeavours. If they did a good job and make a name for themselves out there, they might even further establish their reputation. This in turn would open up more quests specific to that area, and even _quest chains._

"Ah here it is… _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_ … which is… the _Sumiredouri_ Shopping District in _Sumire_ Town".

* * *

 **And there we have it! The Guild are back together again and they can't take a rest yet, because they've just received a brand new quest to do :D**

 **We can see that Yozora was starting to lose his marbles on the final day of the training camp. Because, honey... IF. ANY. BITCH. SO. MUCH. AS. GIVE. ME. A. PAPER. CUT. SHE. GONE. DIE. NO MERCY TO BE HAD. Yozora is too shy and forgiving :/** **Erina darling, you get another taste of what lies beneath the murky waters of the President of The Guild. In return, he gets a taste of you too (NOT MEANT TO SOUND DIRTY - sorrynotsorry).**

 **Erina and Yozora battling with their turbulent thoughts and emotions make me chuckle. What else will these two uncover from each other?**

 **DOUJIMA GIN 'GOT SOME' XD**

 **Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think, and I'll see you next time. Bye!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	6. Bros on the Road

_Chapter 6 - Bros on the Road_

* * *

"Home sweet home".

Souma sucked in the air and sighed in contentment. He stood just beneath the sign of the one place he felt he belonged in the whole word.

 _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_

From the pool of shadow at Souma's feet, he knew it was early afternoon. But in this late summer, the sun was losing its intensity and Souma didn't worry about shading his eyes. Very soon the little market street would be flooded with school kids on their way home for family dinner time, part-time work, or maybe just to hangout some more. Fallen leaves littered the main strip and they skated along the pavement twirling and spinning around the light poles in their routine dance. Souma dropped his luggage on the concrete and stretched his arms out. It was so good to be back, he missed this place. _Tootsuki_ had been intense and he could sure use a break. He was thankful for the extra day off. A few Polar Star members had eagerly made plans. Right now, Megumi was on a field trip with her RS, Sakaki and Four-eyes were visiting home, he wasn't sure what the Two Polaris Chumps were up to and finally Isshiki- _senpai_ and Yoshino were staying behind to look after the animals and plantations.

Souma decided _Yukihira Diner_ could do with some airing-out.

So here he was!

Souma picked up his luggage again and pulled it along the street, taking a slow pace so that he could enjoy the air of familiarity. It looked like the regular vendors were still on break as he didn't spot any familiar faces to say _'Hey, how's it hanging?'_ to. But he paid it no mind. The _shoutengai_ looked exactly as how he left it.

The red-head finally reached his homestead and a crooked smile blossomed between full cheeks. He looked up at the sign gleaming in the afternoon sun. Heh, he totally missed a spot when he was cleaning and repainting the sign, no thanks to that bitch from the real-estate company that trashed his diner and he had redo it. Souma momentarily thought of painting that missed spot while he was here, but decided to leave it. Such memories added to the charm. Souma fished out the keys from his jeans and unlocked the wooden side gate. He pulled his luggage onto the cobble stones which _Oyaji_ had fixed into the dirt last summer. The wheels rattled as he made the short trip to the back of the shop. When Souma opened the back door, the air breezed past him to fill the vacuum and he coughed on the dust and musty air.

' _Yep, it totally needs airing out, but I gotta dump my shit first'._

Souma flicked on the light and everything was illuminated. While _Oyaji_ was gone, he had since changed the locks on the back storeroom into a better grade deadlock. Souma wasn't keen on another repeat from any busty real-estate agent wanting to drive him out of his bread and butter. The red-head yawned and cracked his neck, loving the feeling of release and relief trickling down his spine. He tossed his luggage to the side, not really wanting to make the climb upstairs to the living area above the diner. He lifted the _noren_ and emerged out into the dining area of the shop, maneuvering around the tables in the dimness like second nature. He pulled out his set of keys again looking for the right one for the shutter. Souma fought to adjust his eyes to the darkness and when he managed to untangle it from its brothers and sisters, he slid it into the lock like a hot knife through butter. He bent his knees, planted his feet solidly onto the floor and wound his calloused fingers around the handle of the shutter comfortably. He gave it a strong tug.

The rattling cracked through the silence and as Souma exerted his strength to pull it even higher he was suddenly blinded by the sunshine pouring in, before a shadow casted its dark shape before him.

"Huh? Oh hey! Kurase-chan! It's been a while".

Souma's face split into a grin at the sight of the person he least expected to be loitering outside his diner! Well he'd be damned! Kurase Mayumi was right there spluttering and shaking like a leaf, as if she had seen a ghost. Her chocolate brown eyes inflated until he could see the whites and a violent blush overtook her face. His old middle school friend brought warmth to his heart and nostalgia. Souma thought back to when they were kids, about how shy and uncomfortable Kurase-chan had been, with cheeks that always seemed flushed and the bobbed hair looking bouncy and frazzled whenever she would jolt and flinch from a loud noise. Hah! Nothing's changed.

"Wha-?! Yukihira-kun?!".

Souma ducked beneath the shutter and braced both hands beneath it. Her eyes continued to stretch to the size of flying saucers as her head tilted back. He gave a mighty push until the metal shutter reeled back in with a loud roar and locked above him with a loud bang. He dusted his hands and smiled at his childhood friend who was still frozen and was gaping at him as if _he_ was the ghost. Then he noticed three more of his buddies of his standing around.

Furutani Touru.

Adachi Keigo.

Koganei Aki.

"You guys here too?" Souma began "Did school let out ear—"

"Whoa, hey! It's been forever man. We didn't know you were back!"

Souma didn't get a chance to finish when three excited yet delightfully surprised familiar faces were crowded him. He blanched and took a step back, his hands ready to hold his old classmates at bay. So this was what people meant when they talked about invading personal space? He was starting to get the picture now.

"Souma-kun! Welcome back! Are you going to re-open Yukihira even though your dad isn't here?".

Touru-kun swung his arm around Souma's neck and pulled him into his body. No _'how've you been?'_ and straight to _'We care more about your food than you'._ Trust Touru-kun to think with his stomach. The red-head blinked in a few times, the welcome-backs coming at him a little too fast for him to get his bearings. Touru-kun has a massive grin on his face… when he looked over at Kurase-chan, she was biting her lower lip and her eyes turned glossy with tears. She tried to blink them away, but when she couldn't, she clutched her quaking fists to her chest and shook on the spot. Damn! He didn't think they'd miss him this much, their joy and happiness to see his face said otherwise. This feeling eased his foot back and he thought about the idea for a second.

"No, sorry. I just stopped by to air it out…".

" _Hey is that Yukihira-kun?!"._

" _What?! Is it?!"._

" _My goodness gracious it is!"._

" _Sweet! Yukihira Diner is open!"._

"Huh? Crap! More and more people are coming!".

Souma shook Touru-kun off and faced the sound of stamping feet coming at him. The trickling of people through the shopping district had grown into a steady flow. Eagle-eyed salary men who spotted him from the entrance and exits ran to meet him like a drove of stampeded animals and huddled around him. Souma felt his breath leave him from the magnitude of being welcomed back by both people he knew and people he didn't. One man whom Souma recognised was a regular customer dumped his briefcase onto the pavement and crashed to his knees. Souma gasped as he grabbed onto his school shirt, ready to sob like a pre-schooler and it was almost comical.

"Yukihira-kun, please. You've got to cook me something…", he groaned.

"I miss the restaurant's food so much", moaned another.

Souma gently pried the man's fingers from his clothes and helped him up. The aged man coughed into his fist after swallowing the saliva that was pooling in his mouth. He looked a tad embarrassed that he made a show of his desperation and straightened his tie. Souma rubbed his finger against his chin. He was fully surrounded now. Every turned he made, he was faced with hopeful and weary faces murmuring his name and pleading him for food. His school friends were still looking deliriously happy as they clamoured to his side. He certainly didn't expect this as soon as he got back and was counting on a relaxing weekend. Should he open up? He wasn't prepared for this and honestly he had no idea what was left in the restaurant's stock. However, Yukihira Souma wasn't one to deny hungry people a hot meal or two! He happily made his decision.

"Heh. Alright then, let me make a run for some ingredients… because _Yukihira Diner_ will have a one-day mini reopening!".

The people around him exploded with cheers. Souma had no words for how good that felt. With cheers, came with fists flying into the air and eyes flung open wide. The crowd was feeling electrified, awake, soaring to new heights. Souma grabbed the knot in his apron and tightened it, feeling the blood pump through his forearms. He felt many grateful hands give him strong pats on the back and his spine almost caved in but her bared it. The commuters dispersed quickly with promises thrown behind them to come back with their families to enjoy their long-missed family dinner at Yukihira's. Souma waved them good bye with a skip in his step. Finally, he bade his old school friends' goodbye as they needed to go to, but sent him well wishes for his little re-opening.

"I umm… I've really m-missed you Souma-kun".

Kurase-chan was the only one left. She had a small smile on her face and her eyes peeked up at him.

"Missed you too!", He whacked her on the shoulder and she stumbled forward with a high-pitched squawk. Ha! She was always so hilarious.

"I could help with getting ingredients for you, since I don't have to be home right away… if that's okay?".

"I could do with a helping hand", he smiled at her.

Her smile was infectious when she was calmed and relaxed. Kurase-chan's dimples came out as she smiled at Souma. He directed her to go back into his shop so that he could list out the ingredients he needed to get. He knew where _Oyaji_ kept the spare cash. Out of all places, it was in the butt capsule of this huge _Play-Arts_ figurine he got as a present from an old friend in the basement. Who the hell in their right mind made a hole in _that_ area of an oversized figure? Whatever the case, it could fit in thousands of _yen_ notes, so Souma was going to get that. When he was about to duck underneath to follow Kurase-chan, something caught his ears.

 _Dum… clap-clap-dum…dum-clap…. dum… clap-clap-dum…dum-clap…_

He furrowed his eyebrows at the rhythm and the accompanied humming. He turned back around to look at the entrance of his shopping district and his jaw dropped.

"Mitsunaga?! Ginsekai?! What are you two doing here?".

Like two pairs of antelopes picking up a snap of a twig, the two boys jerked their heads up and spun around to face him. Holy shit! What were those two gamer-chefs doing on his turf?! Souma's face lit up as he waved at them excitedly over from the entrance of _Sumiredouri Shoutengai._ Mitsunaga appeared like he really couldn't believe his eyes that he was seeing Souma… or maybe he just woke up from sleep walking… but Ginsekai froze in the midst of thumping his palm against his chest and then he sprang back to life. He whooped like a deranged child and grabbed his luggage to dash over. They were dressed casually and Souma was really digging their fashion. Ginsekai was clad in a thick, good quality burgundy sleeveless shirt and grey cargo pants, held up by a gunmetal grey canvas belt. Souma spotted some written tags on his left thigh which read _'I've got a fucking to-do list that's longer than 'Hana' by Kikkawa You'_. Souma had a niggling that Ginsekai designed his own pants. His brown combat boots clomped against the concrete like elephants' feet and his cargo pants were tucked into the leather as if the exuberant blonde was ready to go hiking. He also wore leather biker gloves which gripped onto his luggage handle. His new friend came to a stop and yanked out his earphones. He clapped Souma roughly on the shoulder and turned around to holler at his less energetic friend to hurry over.

"Hey! Fancy meeting you here, Yukihira-kun. Small world, right Yo-kun?".

"Yeah".

Mitsunaga had his signature headphones slung around his neck. He wore a simple white T-shirt with a barcode logo on the front, black skinny jeans and a simple black jacket. Although his style was more basic compared to Ginsekai, it worked for him, Souma thought there was a level of simplicity to Mitsunaga's which he found refreshing. A simple guy needs only simple clothes, right? As if on cue, the dark haired teen rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and yawned. He offered Souma a stationary wave with splayed out fingers and made his way over. Hard blue diamonds gazed at him inquisitively from the distance.

"I'm the one who should be saying that since this is where I live. Good ol' _Sumiredouri Shoutengai"_ , chuckled Souma.

"Did you hear that, Yo-kun? This is Yukihira-kun's home! He's an _AI Player!_ ", crooned Ginsekai to his friend who was still rubbing his eyes.

"I'm a _what?"._

Mitsunaga shook his head with an enigmatic smile and turned to Souma, catching his attention.

" _The Guild_ received a quest from the owner of the _Games and Arcade Centre_ in this district. He needs help with getting back his customers from big competition. Since we have the time-off, we'd take it on. We don't really know this area so I guess you're now one of our points of contact with information who can actually go around and do stuff, thus you're _totally_ an _AI Player",_ said Mitsunaga.

He'd roll with that. Souma raised a fist and Mitsunaga bumped it with a smirk on his face. So they were on business with a side of philanthropy. Respect. Souma was glad to see the friendlier faces of _Tootsuki_ visiting his home town. He happened to know the owner of the Games and Arcade Centre too since back in middle school he used to visit the place and played his brains out with his old middle school friends on the way home from school. Souma felt excited to show The Guild members the best parts of his home town shopping district.

"I see. What's with the luggage?".

"It's our stuff and more. We booked a motel to stay until Monday", said Ginsekai. "Gotta gather some info you know, devise our plan of action, save the joint and get our reward".

"Why don't you stay at my place? It's a lot cheaper than staying at the motel. Won't cost you a _yen",_ offered Souma.

Ginsekai and Mitsunaga both widened their eyes and then looked at each other. He had spare rooms above the diner that weren't doing anything. It would be fun to have friends staying over.

"Sure, thanks man! That'd be great! Is there a last minute cancellation fee for the motel, Yo-kun?". Ginsekai whooped.

"Not that I saw in their terms and conditions. I'll call them now and see". Mitsunaga fished out his phone and proceeded to dial.

Souma left him to do whatever he needed to do and ushered the bouncy blonde energiser bunny into his shop.

"Sweet place", commented Ginsekai who was eagerly inspecting the diner.

"It's not much, but its home".

"That's all it needs to be, my friend".

The approving whistle from the blonde gamer-chef made Souma's chest swell. Even Mitsunaga gave a small nod and a big smile on his face. It looked like their accommodation arrangements were well and truly sorted now. Souma took pride in the homeliness and cosiness of his family diner. It was all around special to the people of Sumire Town. _Oyaji_ and himself made this place their guiding star for pretty much everything in their life.

"Eh? Souma-kun? Umm… Who are they?".

Oh yeah, Kurase-chan was still here. He could see that she had made herself busy and was dusting the place with a duster she found at the back of the shop. She looked between the three boys, two of them she was concentrating on. He noticed that she was drawn to the not-so-polite language on Ginsekai cargo pants. Souma could also see she was starting to get really nervous so he quickly introduced The Guild members to fill the awkward silence.

"This is Kurase Mayu from my old middle school. Kurase-chan, these are my friends from _Tootsuki"._

"Hi! I'm Ginsekai Hayato but you can call me Hayato".

"My name is Mitsunaga Yozora".

"H-Hello Hayato-kun, Mitsunaga-kun. It's a pleasure to meet you". Kurase-chan bowed to them. The two boys nodded at her.

"My house is actually up stairs, so you guys can dump your stuff in the spare bedroom on the right and uh… yeah! Make yourselves at home. Be back in a tick, Kurase-chan and I are going ingredients shopping for _Yukihira Diner_ ".

"You're opening up your restaurant?", Shouted Ginsekai who was already halfway up the steps with his luggage and Mitsunaga close behind, turning his head over with interest.

"Yep, just for one day though", said Souma.

"Do you need any help? Since you're letting us stay at your place…", asked Mitsunaga.

Souma played the thought around in his mind. Hmm… that would be a pretty good idea actually. The diner was going to be jammed pack this evening and he was sure there would be queues lining up outside too. Getting two sets of phenomenally skilled helping hands would take a load off. Well, they were crashing at his place for free so it was a fair trade, he suppsoed. Holy shit! Did Mitsunaga just worm a quest out of him? Hot damn, everything was a video game to them! This was a childhood dream come true, even if he was labelled as _just_ an _AI Player_.

"Would you? That would be awesome. I'm going to put a list together. Come with me and I'll show you around while we shop too. Get to know the place and stuff for your _quest,_ and I'll stop by with you at the Games and Arcade Centre. Also, the restaurant's recipe books are upstairs so we'll go through them together when we get back", said Souma.

"Thanks Yukihira!", with that Ginsekai made the final leap up the stairs.

Ingredients shopping was going to be a blast.

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

"Hey Ise-san, how much for the cabbage?".

Yozora had been watching Yukihira drink in the colours and the aromas like an elixir. The energetic bounce in his footsteps as he hurriedly glided down the main strip made Hayato-kun, Kurase-san and himself speed-up after him. Yozora noted the way that Souma seemed to never miss throwing a delighted wave at each vendor they passed. He shouted his eager and rambunctious salutations without missing a beat, and even though they didn't have time to waste, he never failed to strike up a short and friendly conversation before apologising for cutting it short and dashing off. Even Hayato-kun had somehow managed to edge in a greeting or two and introduced himself. But that was Hayato-kun. The guy always had to get a word in. Yozora could see Yukihira thrived on interacting with the vendors; each one was a caricature of bubbly friendliness which he wished _Tootsuki_ could take a leaf from.

' _They all know him and his father by name'._

Yukihira was surprisingly proficient in buying his produce. It was so streamlined, the way he stopped from one market stall to the other, listening carefully to each vendor's pearls of wisdoms on what to do with certain ingredients and the latest news on what was in season. Yozora realised that it was that close connection that made Yukihira happy to buy from them, and they too were happy to dine at _Yukihira Diner._ The speedy food couriers on their trusty bicycles weaved past Yozora and through the growing crowd that was trickling through the exit and entrance of the shopping district. It was quickly getting busier.

"Sorry to make everyone dodge and dive, but the best ingredients are all in _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_!", yelled Yukihira.

"No complaints here, my friend!" Hayato-kun shouted back, clearly enjoying himself and snapping touristy photos for their blog post on his phone.

Yozora couldn't agree more. He too would never shop for produce at a glowing white shopping centre, served by over-zealous retailers who shoved all sorts of products in his face until it blinded him with indecision. What he couldn't get at the local market, he just didn't buy. Other than that, Yukihira made an excellent _NPC_ and took up the role with gusto. He introduced vendors and pointed out a few notable things in the district for Yozora to add to their _quest docket_ _._ Yukihira seemed to know exactly what he and Hayato-kun needed. It was important for them to familiarise with the location, people and educate themselves on the culture and customs of the _Sumiredouri Shoutengai,_ to help utilise all that information to make their _quest completion_ a resounding success.

"Here we are. The _Games and Arcades Centre"._

Yozora flicked his head up and inspected the store front. It was wedged between two taller buildings. It looked squeezed, as if the neighbours were closing in. The sign was old, some letters had become illegible in the peeling paint. However the window was clean and the consoles, games, gaming accessories, figurines, tabletop-games and many more were on display. There was a mish-mash of contemporary and retro themes going on and quite frankly it made Yozora dizzy and from a quick glance, Hayato-kun looked befuddled too.

The teenagers stepped in.

"I haven't been here in ages. It hasn't changed one bit", whistled Yukihira.

"Check it out. It's bigger on the inside", Hayato-kun gasped.

It certainly was. Despite the misleading storefront window, everything inside was artistically arranged, and not crammed together like Yozora was expecting. It was more breathable. It was far longer than it was wide and pristine too. It had been carefully maintained inside. An electronic trill grabbed Yozora's attention and was immediately taken aback by the row of DDR machines, racing simulators, flight simulators and classic arcade machines with a variety of console accessories shoved towards the back. Yozora sucked in a breath as his feet took him over. He grazed his eyes over the designs and the screen.

 _Mortal Kombat_

 _King of Fighters_

 _Tekken_

 _Street Fighter_

 _Virtua Cop_

 _Ridge Racer_

 _Area 51_

 _Pac-man_

 _Galaga_

… and many more.

' _Shit. These are from before I was born. Are these still coin-operated?'._

Yozora shook his head with awe. While Hayato-kun and Yukihira were gushing over the latest releases and Kurase-san was minding Yukihira's home-made shopping cart, the dark-haired teen walked amongst the age-worn machines, bleeping and pinging with no regard. Some were even playing jaunty _chiptunes._ The current gaming industry stood on the shoulders of giants like _SEGA, Atari, Nintendo_ and then later on _Bandai, Namco, CAPCOM._ Yozora felt he was in a museum looking at fossils. Video game music nowadays were almost indistinguishable from movie scores. They used all the music genres available to them, ranging from full orchestras and choir to electronic music. Yet, here he was happily tapping his forefinger against his thumb to the beat of basic, prehistoric 8-bit music like it was the best thing he'd ever heard.

"Nostalgia won't let me get rid of them".

" _WHOAH!"._

Yozora jumped out of his skin. For a split second, his awe was suspended and so was his soul. He stuttered back to life and his brain jump-started the rest of his body part into action. Yozora swung around and almost shouldered one of the arcade machines before steadying himself and eyeing the middle-aged man who snuck up on him.

"Ever since I was a little boy, I've always wanted to open up my own video-game store and arcade. These were the first machines I bought". He began.

Yozora gulped and was momentarily dumbfounded as the man nodded towards the lit up machines, happily singing their _chiptunes_. He managed to pull himself back together. The man had the look of one who had woken up one spring morning to find that their youth had passed by all that he had left were beautiful memories to look back on. He was dressed in a checked button up tucked into his high waisted pants. He had a generous waistline and Yozora found that he could imagine the man sinking into the cushions by the _kotatsu_ in winter. He had a round and jovial face, lined with light creases, especially where his mouth and eyes were. His eyes were almost sunken, but they still twinkled as they floated over each and every machine like prized horses.

"I-I see". Yozora murmured.

"Oh silly me, you probably don't to want to hear an oldy ramble on. My name is Seikan Tsuyoshi, the owner of the _Games and Arcade Centre"_.

"Mitsunaga Yozora. I'm from _The Guild"_. Yozora bowed at the waist at Seikan-san.

" _The Guild_? As in from the TGS last year?".

"Yes, sir".

"Oh I've been expecting you!".

Yozora was suddenly pulled into a bone-crushing hug! His winded body caved into the Seikan-san's monstrous embrace. His mouth threw open, gasping for breath and his heart squeezed like a toothpaste tube running on empty. Fuck! He had muscles under that shirt! Blackness crept into his periphery and Yozora felt the light-headedness sink in before he was released and teetered backwards. Then something warm engulfed him from behind and the remnants of his mind was grateful that something got in the way of gravity and he didn't smack his head on the ground… _again._ He could tell in one sniff that it was Hayato-kun's hair-gel scent.

"Ah! Yo-kun! What happened? Are you alright?".

"O-Owner…". Yozora wheezed, pointing a shaking finger at the man who almost shattered all his bones.

"Owner?". His brows scrunched together and then his brilliant blue eyes lit up in understanding.

"Are you boys from The Guild too?", asked Seikan-san.

"Yeah, I'm Ginsekai Hayato. At your service!".

"Hey, hey, _Oji-san_ Do you remember the two of us?".

Yukihira waved one arm around and grasped Kurase-san around the shoulders, dragging her forward with a helpless squeak. Seikan-san blinked owlishly before crinkling his face into a warm smile. Yozora gently pushed Hayato-kun aside, finding the strength to stand on his own two feet again. He dusted himself off and righted his headphones on his neck, making sure it sat comfortably and that his wires weren't tangled up.

"Of course, how could I? You and your friends used to kick up a storm here. My… you've grown up. In high school right?".

"Yep! I'm at _Tootsuki._ That's where I met these two", Yukihira smacked Hayato-kun on the back.

"I-I'm attending _Sumire Gakuen_ ", stuttered Kurase-san.

"I see. Well, let me just say, I'm so glad to see you young ones. My nephew, Iwato-kun, recommended me to reach out to 'The Guild'. He said that your school club could help my store get back on its feet again. He also said that you guys are student chefs specialising in… some sort of _interpretive cooking…?_ And are very talented in marketing, entertainment, promotions, event management and customer service?".

A smidgeon of doubt crossed his face and Yozora wasn't surprised. Hayato-kun beated him to it and proceeded to put affirm their reputation and put the store-owner's mind at ease.

"That's right", beamed Hayato-kun. "Our specialty is video-game music inspired gourmet food".

"Wow. I didn't know there was such a thing, but it sounds unique and wonderful nonetheless".

"Could you tell us in more detail about your troubles? We understand that there is some goliath competition that's stealing away your customers". Yozora interrupted.

Seikan-san's face fell and already he looked defeated. He sighed and rubbed the bald spot on top of head.

"As Yukihira-kun and Kurase-chan already know, a lot of kids stop by my Games and Arcades Centre to hangout after school and after club practice and then go home. The _Shoutengai_ is a popular shortcut for many people after school and work, which is why there are many stores. My business was booming and there was a good turn-over of stock and my nephew and I regularly needed to restock the shelves and maintain the arcade machines. You would see all sorts here, but…".

The teens waited for him to continue.

"Ever since _Mozuya_ opened up at the train-station opposite the _Shoutengai,_ my customers started to rapidly thin out. You see… _Mozuya_ is a specialty _karaage_ franchise and their fried-chicken and _karaage_ sauce are to die for! It's really juicy, tasty, crispy and so succulent. It's extremely popular. All the kids and students love that place and so every day after school, they walk right through the _Shoutengai,_ pass my store and everybody else's store for _Mozuya._ Everyday it's like you see your friend about to hi-five you and you raise your hand to hi-five them, and then realise they were aiming for the person behind you… _"._

"Ah the 'phantom hi-five'… story of my life", commented Hayato-kun.

Yozora rubbed his chin. He observed Seikan-san's distraught countenance. His chest deflated and it made his gut protrude out over his belt-line some more. He was a defeated man. But not when The Guild was here! The well-oiled gears in Yozora's mind was already working, trying to figure out rough blueprints of several plans as he listened to him pour his grievances.

"I'd always hoped my customers would still stop by my store afterwards, but they never do. I guess it's too much of a hassle to back-track into the _Shoutengai_ and then walk out again to go home. By the time they get that hot and fresh box of _karaage_ in their hands, they just want to rush home for dinner".

The teens nodded, echoing Seikan-san's sadness. Yozora pushed his hands into his jacket pockets as he looked around the store.

"Where is your nephew, Iwato-san?", he asked.

"Oh, he's getting the _Mozuya family pack_ for dinner right now. The line gets pretty long", replied Seikan-san, rubbing his receding hairline.

"…".

"…".

"…".

"…".

"Okay, say that again… but _slowly_ ". Hayato-kun cautiously bit out with a raised, questioning finger.

Yozora patted his trendy, blonde friend on the back, stopping him from unintentionally embarrassing their client.

"Seikan-san", began Yozora, "Hayato-kun and myself would like to come back tomorrow and have a look at the resources you already have in your store, talk with Iwato-kun, and then develop a plan of action to increase your customers for the long term. As you said, we're good at customer services and promotions and the proof is in the testimonials on our blog. You have a great store, Seikan-san. We'll use our strengths together to make sure you get your high-fives each and every-time!".

Yozora pumped his fists. The middle-aged man's eyes sprang wide and connected his gaze with his own blue ones as he momentarily stiffened from the confident declaration. He hoped the reassuring smile he painted on his face was enough to assuage the store-owner at least for today. It did take a lot for an adult to place their livelihood into the hands of a bunch of teenagers, but The Guild took enjoyment in exceeding their expectations every time and making sure that everyone created good memories to share around. Yozora would make sure it was the best business decision Seikan-san would ever make. Well, second best to owning a Games and Arcade Store. Like a breath of fresh wind, Seikan-san allowed a relieved smile to grace his features which spoke of trust. He gently bumped his fist with Yozora. A small blush skated across the dark-haired chef's face but quickly disappeared as his grinned transformed into a haughty smirk.

"We've promised Yukihira-kun some helping hands tonight in his restaurant, so we'll leave it for today. Thanks for choosing us to come to your aide, Seikan-san", finished Yozora.

Yozora bowed at the hip and Hayato-kun floundered to follow his example with a chirpy _'Hot damn!'_ which earned them a few chuckles.

"No. Thank _you._ I'll see you boys tomorrow, and welcome back Yukihira-kun. It was lovely to see you again too, Kurase-chan".

"Thanks _oji-san"._

"It's p-pleasure, sir!".

Yozora cocked his head towards the store entrance and the _party_ followed him out with their winnings for today in tow. Hayato-kun graciously took the trolley from Kurase-chan's charge and pushed it long the main-strip quickly through the crowd towards _Yukihira Diner._ Wow, he looked ready to get down tonight! He watched as the jittery girl spluttered her thanks which went unheard by the hasty blonde, and toddled behind Yukihira, throwing anxious glances about. Yozora formed a mental list for tomorrow and quickly flipped through his memories of previous _quests_ to see if there was anything he could draw upon to aide them at this point. He flitted his eyes towards the sky and noted the cool drop in temperature. The sunset in the sky was as bold as one of Kasai- _senpai's_ tangerine _yokan._ It sat within the sky exuding that summer-fruit hued halo as if it looked over earth, stretching out with sepia tones to everyone below.

Once the group finally made it back it was time to group and delegate, Kurase-san insisted that she wanted to continue to help with the restaurant. However Yukihira insisted back that she had done more than enough in running around town helping him buy ingredients and that she should kick back and have a nice hot meal. Yozora didn't really care as long as he got his hands on some action this evening. _Yukihira Diner_ would open in three hours and so the three boys had three hours to finish prepping everything and get down to business from the first order to the last order. As the red-headed chef promised, they sat down for thirty minutes to go through the whole of _Yukihira Diner's Menu recipe books._ It was a quick affair and Yukihira also wanted The Guild members to put a twist on some of his recipes just to make the mini-opening a little bit more special.

"Are you sure you want us to change some recipes? These are yours and your _dad's_ and your regulars are coming for _Yukihira Diner_ food, not _The Guild_ food", said Hayato-kun.

"It's no-big-deal. You guys have something special and my regulars aren't gonna kick up a fuss about it. I bet you it will be the opposite", Yukihira grinned.

Hayato-kun and Yozora exchanged looks. Finally they shrugged and conceded, their suppressed grins mirroring each other's bubbling excitement. If Yukihira put this much trust into their cooking flare to spice up his father's recipes then there was no way they could let him down. Yozora felt his heart beat skip a beat at the prospect of throwing a shin-dig at their new friend's joint for his home-town. Tonight was going to be sweet!

"Right! So this calls for a looped track for the whole night".

"You mean like, just _one_ song on repeat?", asked Yukihira, sounding a bit apprehensive.

"Yep. Promise. It's not as grueling as it sounds. Do you have anything in mind, Yo-kun?".

Yozora sucked his teeth and took a quick moment for himself and then he blew his raven locks from his eyes. Hayato-kun and Yukihira looked at him expectantly, but he tilted his chin at them. He looked around the restaurant kitchen and noted the size and space. It was small, fitting no more than four chefs working at once. Since this was intended to be a father and son venture when Yukihira Souma could first hold a knife on his own, it was plenty of space for two. Today, it wasn't a duo running the restaurant, but three friends about to go on a little bit of a side-quest, donating their time and skill to help a buddy out. It wasn't uncommon for _NPCs_ to be included in a party for quests. They can behave like an AI player doing their own thing, following the avatar joining in conversations, battling even. Did Yozora consider Yukihira Souma a party member? The jubilant red-head had been nothing but supportive of them from the get go. They got along well and Yozora had to admit, he was keen to learn more about this maverick chef who rubbed all the rich-kids the wrong way. Yeah… he would call Yukihira-kun a friend, a _party member_ …

…From a different guild called _'Polar Star Dorm'._

He had the perfect piece.

" _ **Track 25** "._

Hayato-kun's eyes lit up and he whooped, commenting on how the 'British nineties pop-rock' genre would be perfect for the three of them to work together in the kitchen. The red-headed chef blanched at the mention of 'nineties' and Yozora snorted. Yeah… video game music encapsulated _all_ genres. He casted his gaze downwards and stared at his hands. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. He let the sounds of Yukihira and Hayato-kun's excited chatter and explanations on how _cooperative-play_ worked in their kitchen, fade into the background. Yozora was confident that Yukihira would pick up their rhythm quickly as he too had a big heart, keen senses, observant eyes and just in general an open-mind with a taste for adventure.

' _If my old Orchestra saw me now… would they still care?'._

"Here. Listen to it once and you'll get the picture", said Hayato-kun, speaking to Yukihira.

Yozora closed his eyes and listened as Hayato-kun fiddled with the smart phone. Soon the strong greeting of the electric guitar and drums gave him a strong and sturdy pat on the back, and even a firm handshake accompanied with a shoulder bump. The build was mellow and Yozora felt himself sink into the chord progression as his spirit was lifted higher. He opened his eyes and watched his best friend nod his head to the beat and Yukihira's golden eyes glitter. The track hit all the right notes to make that strong sense of comradeship bloom in his chest and squeeze his heart. Yozora realised this moment was more precious than he thought. It wasn't everyday one made new friends. When it did happen, well… lucky for them and when it didn't, and suddenly they have a new addition to the friendship circle, let's just say that Yozora was adding that to the album of wonderful memories. This track was a simple song. Straightforward, relaxing, all major keys, only three types of instruments; electric guitar, bass guitar, percussions and a violin backing. It was repetitive and easy to listen to without getting sick of it. Yozora knew it would be easy to play by ear on the piano too. However, he picked up the subtler notes more easily than others and to him that made this track more fitting for the subtle integration of Yukihra Souma into their _party._

Yozora looked over to Hayato-kun. Yeah. They both wanted to capture their newfound and precious companionship to Yukihira Souma in their cooking. He couldn't think of a better 'Thank you' for his friendship.

"This song is really nifty. It's actually quite relaxing, but it still motivates you to get things done. What a contrast! That's a contrast right? I don't think I'd get distracted from it either and the beat is easy to pick up, so that's a plus", commented Yukihira.

"Yo-kun is good at choosing the right music for the right time and place". Hayato-kun chuckled as he proceeded to loop the song indefinitely.

"Let's get started. We've got a kitchen and pantry to clean out and hungry people to feed tonight".

Yozora got up from the table and stretched out his kinks. Hayato-kun sprang up and blared his declaration for a race up the stairs and get changed into his chef's uniform as fast as he could. Yozora rolled his eyes and bounded up after him. No chance in hell he was going to let _anyone_ beat him in _anything_.

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

 _"Gochisousama deshita!"._

Mayu finished her delicious meal and placed her chopsticks on the chopsticks rest in front of her empty _donburi_ bowl. Her stomach settled comfortable and she smacked her lips. _Kami-sama_ she missed Souma-kun's food so much… but not as much as the chef himself. She fidgeted, adjusting her school uniform neckerchief, with nothing else to do, she let her eyes peruse the restaurant. It was filled to the brim with eager customers which quickly became satisfied ones. Mayu looked around the busy tables. There was an old couple eating side-by-side, studiously bent over their _omuraisu._ A group of young women in their twenties grasping each other with helpless giggles as a stern man dining looked on and frowned. A group of work collegues flocked together enjoying platters to share with bowls of rice each. When she leaned over, she could see that those familiar dishes had something subtly different about it. Whatever it was, it was just as delicious judging by the arching eye-brows and praises Souma-kun and his _Tootsuki_ friend's received. She sat a table with Aki-chan, Keigo-kun and Touru-kun, they were busy talking about the latest news in film. The noise level was high but it didn't bother Mayu. She was used to it.

"The one with dark-hair and the blue eyes look _so_ handsome" squealed Satsuki-chan. "What's his name, Mayu-chan?".

"M-Mitsunaga Yozora, I think…", she replied.

Mitsunaga-kun was currently taking a family with young children's orders. He was a tall and slender boy, barely any noticeable physique on his thin frame. He was dressed like a professional chef, unlike Souma-kun which was really intriguing. _Tootsuki_ was a high-class, privatised academy and it was well known that only the influential and wealthy breed of students attended there. She could definitely tell with Mitsunaga-kun from the posture he held, his mannerisms and way of speaking, that he fitted that mould to a Tee. He was in white and had an azure scarf around his collar. He wore a dark brown apron around his white trousers. His black-hair looked soft and layered in the light and his fringe fell over his vision, but that didn't obscure the sharpness of his gaze at all. His eyes were the most outstanding. She shivered whenever he looked at her. She was sure he didn't mean anything by it or probably even realised it, but his deep blue eyes framed by charcoal lashes were just so intense and calculating that it burned her and it mildly unnerved her that he didn't seem to blink… and when he wasn't engaging in conversation, he often stared into space, like he was contemplative all the time.

"Really? I thought the blonde guy with the stylish 'do' was more of your type", snickered Keigo-kun.

"He's cute, but Mitsunaga-kun is different. He has this air about him like… I dunno… people can't get close to him easily and when they successfully do, he would _never_ let them go and cares about them above all else. And if he falls in love, he loves _intensely_ and gets easily jealous~".

"You watch too many romantic dramas. _Us_ _guys_ aren't like that in real life", snorted Touru-kun, crunching on one of the _okazu._

"' _Us guys?'_ Please. He's on a whole different level compared to you, Touru-kun. Even his birthmark looks hotter than you".

"How do you know he has a birthmark?".

"If you stand _right_ behind him and squint at the correct angle with enough lighting, you can see it at the back of his left ear just where the cartilage connects to his head".

"Creepy-stalker much?!".

Mayu chuckled half-heartedly as Satsuki-chan prepared her vicious rebuttal against Touru-kun. The funny thing was… Aki-kun and Touru-kun were actually dating…

She let herself soak in the ambient music which wafted from the kitchen area. She wondered why the boys were cooking to music and drank in the fragranced air. Was it part of their cooking style? Despite Souma-kun's insistence that she kick back and relax and let the boys do all the heavy lifting she just couldn't. She really didn't have anything else to do after school since she had no clubs so she'd rather spend the little time she had before he returned to _Tootsuki_ to be with him. The electric guitar serenading her made her think back on all the good memories she had in this restaurant when Souma-kun and Jouichirou-san were still running the place.

She had grabbed the broom and got busy sweeping the front of the diner, while Souma-kun went through the recipe books with Mitsunaga-san and Hayato-kun.

She really missed it. Even the _donburi_ filled her with nostalgic joy. Interestingly enough, the simmered beef _donburi_ she ordered tasted different! There was added ginger and _daidai_ fruit preserves in it which was really unusual, but the bitter sweetness and the mild spiciness of the ginger brought a warmth which cascaded from her heart to her fingers and toes. She could tell this wasn't Souma-kun's cooking and that it must've been one of his _Tootsuki_ friend's.

' _It's not better than Souma-kun's, just different… and… wow, why am I feeling so happy all of a sudden?'._

Mayu rubbed her reddening cheeks. The lingering sweetness of the _daidai_ preserves and the _umami_ of the high quality simmered beef-slices made her feel deliciously hot in the cheeks. She should be sad that Souma-kun would soon leave her behind, but for some inexplicable reason she was only filled with joy and gratitude for him thinking of even coming back to _Sumiredouri Shoutengai._ Remembering his old middle school friends like her too. The absolute care and precision in the dish when Hayato-kun served it to her was utterly precious. Then when Souma-kun had thrown her his cheeky smile and thumbs up, it made her heart do the waltz.

He remembered that _daidai_ preserves were her favourite…

Friendship with Souma-kun was long-lasting, no matter how far apart they were. They would always be connected to each other somehow. She realised that now.

" _Take a look at Souma-kun. Is it me or has he matured a little?"._

" _Yeah and it's only been two months or so since we last saw him"._

Mayu glanced over to two men sitting at the corner table. She saw them sometimes in the _shoutengai_ and were regulars of _Yukihira Diner_ too. She both sighed and watched him bus tables. Throughout the night, the three boys have been rotating. It was so odd. They've been bumping forearms with one another whenever they weren't carrying dishes with both hands when switching roles. Was it like a chef's secret handshake? Mayu didn't think switching roles from taking orders, taking payments, serving, cooking, and tending to customers was efficient but somehow the three student chefs made it so. From prepping, to cooking, to serving, they were always in sync with each other.

They operated like… clockwork.

' _They're right. Souma-kun does look more grown up. That's so amazing… but me… I feel like I'm getting further and further away… but that's okay. As long as he is happy, that's okay with me'._

Mayu smiled and sipped her tea.

" _Thanks for the food!"._

" _Come again!"._

Souma-kun waved off another happy customer as they sauntered out the doors. He had a brilliant smile on his bright face. The restaurant had slowly grown quieter and the boys started to wind down. Even the volume of the background music drifted lower. The whole time it was just one song. Mayu wasn't a fan of rock music, but this was really soft for rock and she didn't find herself or anyone complaining at all. Instead, she noticed the patrons of _Yukihira Diner_ tonight were only full of laughs and good times. Mayu looked around, seeing her friends with their eyes already glued to their phones since their conversations and banter had died down along with their comfortably food-coma state. The soft clinks of plates and glasses trickled through the air as Mitsunaga-san and Hayato-kun emerged from the kitchens to help with the clean-up of the finished tables.

"Uh… What's wrong, sirs?".

Mayu glanced towards where Souma-kun stopped by. All of a sudden the mood dropped to an all-time low. Oh no… even the music and excitement of the re-opening wasn't effective enough to lift the spirits of the group of three men sulking and slumping in the corner. She craned her neck and realised that one of them was Tomita Yuya-san from _Tomitaya's Bentou Shop!_ He was also the current chairman of the _Sumiredouri_ _Shoutengai_. His light-brown hair drooped like dehydrated sunflowers and his eyes were misty and red from both the beers he drank and the sadness that exuded from him. His weak and flaky appearance didn't look any different from before though.

Suddenly, the bespectacled chairman growled and threw his arms up into the air!

" _WHAT'S SO GREAT ABOUT BIG-BOX STORES, EH?! WHAT'S SO GREAT ABOUT 'EM?!"._

" _Tomi-kun! Tomi-kun! Calm down!"_ yelled his seat neighbour.

Mayu jumped out of her seat as Tomita-san collapsed onto the table and started sobbing uncontrollably. What's going on? Hayato-kun quickly grabbed a fresh pot of tea and poured him some. He proceeded to rub the customer's back in small circles and coaxed him to sip some hot tea to calm his nerves.

"Hey, what's wrong Tomita-san? This isn't like you. Snap out of it!". Souma-kun shook his arm to break the vicious cycle of wailing.

It didn't work right away. His soul was a dying ember. He sat still in his chair with no strength to move. His shaky fingers finally came to stop after running restlessly through his hair. His bit down on his lips trying not to burst into tears. Mayu's heart ached for him. She didn't know what it was like to own a family business and then have some huge corporation threaten her humble livelihood. She imagined it was devastating and she wouldn't know what to do to fix it either. Finally, Tomita-san calmed down enough to speak without getting emotional.

"See umm…", Tomita-san sniffed, "one month ago… the station's shopping mall got renovated. Basically, they turned it into one of those in-station deals".

" _Mozuya_ …", came a soft voice.

Mitsunaga-kun rubbed his hands with the kitchen-towel and then swung it around one of his shoulders. He crossed his arms together and tilted his head at Tomita-san, clearly interested to hear more.

Mayu frowned. In-station malls open stores inside the wickets of train-stations and subway-stations, targeting commuters and transfer passengers. Their local station had recently added several stores like a clothing store and a book store. But there was no denying that the real attraction has been the national _Kaarage_ franchise that moved in. _Kaarage Senmonten Mozuya._ Their fried chicken was famous, like… all across Japan! This chain's fried chicken had won three national competitions in a row! Now all the customers around the _shoutengai_ head straight for the station mall desiring only that fried chicken, and as a result…

… They walk right through the _shoutengai_ without stopping.

The number of customers dropped day by day.

"Yeah, _Mozuya_ is the biggest one there. Sales at my _Tomitaya_ have plummeted". Tomita-san fed himself some _okazu_ "At this rate, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stay in business…". He had another helping as tears leaked down his face.

"Damn, so it's not just _The Games and Arcade Centre_ that's suffering. The whole strip is going under", commented Hayato-kun.

"To make matter's worse fried chicken is the latest big fad".

All eyes turned towards Mayu's direction. Why were they all looking at her? What did she do?! Suddenly she realised that they were looking at Satsuki-chan, instead. Eh? She didn't realise that Satsuki-chan had been listening in on the conversation the whole time.

"I remember watching on TV how fried-chicken specialty stores are cropping up all over the _Kansai_ region".

Mayu turned back towards where the three student chefs. Hayato-kun was rubbing his arms up and down as if there was a ghostly chill. Mitsunaga-kun was burning holes into the table with his unrelenting stare and was chewing his lips. Meanwhile Souma-kun was gazing at the ceiling with a serious expression on his face, as if he was solving a calculus problem.

"The times are changing I guess. Can't stop that", commented Tomita-san's collegue.

"Our _shoutengai_ is finished!", cried another with his head sandwiched between his hands.

"Hey…".

The patrons looked up towards Mitsunaga-kun. His arms were not uncrossed and he pressed them onto the table, leaning forward to look at the three men closely. His jaw was set firmly and the commanding tone in his voice halted their quiet sobs. He lifted his head slightly so his ocean blue orbs scanned each of their faces with a burning determination behind them.

"Rather than sitting there, drinking and feeling sorry for yourselves. Let's do something about it"..

"W-What?".

"This is your home turf and you know your customers like the back of your hand. Use that to your advantage. If you want your _shoutengai_ to survive in the 'changing times' as you put it, you need to evolve. Decades worth of _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_ community and culture counts for more than you know and it shouldn't be underestimated. A little shoe-shiner boy in some bombed-out Eastern European country needs to compete with competition and the _other_ shoe-shine boy on the next corner for a few coins in a dying business _every single day of his life_. What do you think will happen if he gives up? His family will suffer. You're not a shoe-shiner boy. You're an _adult_ with your own business with so much at your disposal, you can beat _Mozuya_ if you put your mind to it"

"B-But how?", asked Tomita-san.

"Well, you said their big weapon is fried-chicken, right?". Souma-kun patted Mitsunaga-kun on the shoulder. "So all we have to do is come up with a better fried-chicken recipe that we can sell here in the _shoutengai!"._

Souma-kun pumped his fist up which earned him some eager nods from the other two student chefs. Mayu really admired their optimism in such a depressing time. She could almost taste the annoyance from Mitsunaga-kun. His voice was tight and the way he stared back at the three men was down-right formidable. She didn't know what good his analogy might've done but it seemed to sober Tomita-san up very quickly.

"It's not so easy". Tomita-san sighed. "Capitol. Budgeting. Advertising… that Big-Box place outclasses us in everything. There's no way we can go up against them".

A knowing grin spread across Souma-kun's face.

' _W-What is he up to…?'._

Slowly he turned towards Mitsunaga-kun and Hayato-kun, his grin growing wider and wider. The two boys looked over at him with small quirks in their eyebrows, a hint of questioning in their eyes.

"Are you guys interested in a side quest, this weekend?".

"You mean _quest-chain_?", replied Hayato-kun

"Whatever it's called. What do you say?".

"Yo-kun? You're my _Guild master,_ so I'll follow where you go". Hayato-kun slapped him on the shoulder.

Mayu watched as Mitsunaga-kun fall into silence once more. Mayu wished Mitsunaga-kun's thoughts were visible. The tension was so thick! His mouth pursed into a pensive expression and his brows knitted together. Mayu wondered about him the most. Hayato-kun was very open, joyous and loud. He liked to tell anyone about what was on his mind, but Mitsunaga-kun absolutely didn't and that made him the most difficult for her to be around. Finally he lifted his head and regarded the adults coolly from the tip of his nose. His calculative pose put everyone on the edge of their seats.

"We'll do it… for a _reward"._

"Excuse me?", blurted Tomita-san.

Everyone's eyebrows shot up into their hairline. Mayu imagined the words _'REALLY?!'_ floating at the top of everyone's heads as if they had just been slapped on each cheek. Their mouths hung open with disbelief.

"We're not doing it for free". He declared.

"Hey, Mitsunaga—". Souma-kun frowned.

"In exchange for our services, we want to add you to our _map_ ". Mitsunaga-kun cut in.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"You mean… Like our address?", offered Tomita-san.

"I mean sponsorship and support. We want a partnership with _Sumiredouri_ _Shoutengai_ ", Mitsunaga clarified.

"A Partnership? Why? W-What do you want in a partnership?".

Mitsunaga-kun smiled. "Complete access to the best quality resources, ingredients and supplies from your stores. Latest news and information for events happening in the district too. Yukihira-kun took us on a tour of the _Shoutengai_ this afternoon and I'm really impressed with the craftsmen and vendors of your shopping district. Everything is top-notch quality, and at a reasonable price. The people here are also very knowledgeable about their wares and produce. Your _shoutengai_ has everything we want. We also want to add you to our _NPC Network_. If you need help, we're there for you and everyone else in the network, and if _we_ need help, then you'd be one of the people we can count on" finished Mitsunaga-kun.

"So what do you say, Tomita-san?", asked Hayato-kun.

"That sounds… fine I guess. But who are you kids?".

"We're from _The Guild—"._

"HOLY SHIT! _THE GUILD_!? As in the gamer-chefs?!"

Touru-kun and Keigo-kun exploded from their table. They leapt out of their seats and rushed towards Souma-kun and his friends like a hurricane. They grabbed the boys as if they couldn't believe the words that left their mouths and shook them as if to check that they were real. Hayato-kun flopped around like a dog-chew toy and Mitsunaga-kun swayed from side to side, too shocked to do anything.

"You're the guys at the TGS last year! I was there too. _Shit!_ I totally didn't recognise you! You had that food truck that was at the CAPCOM floor! You were promoting for _DMC: Devil May Cry_ reboot game which was _sick_. I follow your _Instagram_ and your blog too. Here, check it out, Tomita-san".

Touru-kun pulled out his smartphone and pulled something up on the screen. He excitedly shoved it into Tomita-san's face. The poor man had to pull back and re-adjust his spectacles to get a better look. They looked like greedy spoilt children who found the one and only toy that they badly want for Christmas. His eyes squinted and he scanned the screen, he cautiously scrolled up and down and his face grew more and more confused as he read on.

"What exactly is it you do?", he asked Mitsunaga-kun.

"We're chef's specialising in inventing gourmet dishes based on video-game music. We get hired for _quests_ like catering, promotions, pop-culture conventions, festivals, birthdays, graduation, weddings and such. We do promotions, event management, cooking obviously and everything in between. Basically, anything our clients need, we achieve it".

"…Quests?", asked Tomita-san.

"Man, Mitsunaga. You gotta stop talking as if you're in a video-game". Souma-kun chuckled.

"What do you mean?". Mitsunaga-kun replied.

"Oh boy…". Souma-kun looked away, nothing else to say.

"Don't mind him!". Hayato-kun jumped in and offered a jubilant smile. "We are here because _The Games and Arcades Centre_ owner hired us to help him get back his customers from _Mozuya. Everyone_ here is affected not just him. I guess we can stretch out and help you guys too since there is a common enemy".

Mitsunaga-kun nodded.

"O-Okay, if Seikan-san down there is confident in your skills… then I guess if you could spare some time to help us too… then that would be much appreciated", said Tomita-san.

"Hayato-kun, get the _quest docket_ for him to read over and sign", said Mitsunaga-kun.

"Right!".

The blonde ball of energy left the dining area and disappeared into the kitchen with a flick of the _noren._

"Is that _terms and conditions_ or something?". Souma-kun turned to him with a worried smile.

"Yeah", replied Mitsunaga-kun with a smile.

"Alright! Now that's settled. As part of _Yukihira Diner,_ I can't just stand around and watch this place dry up. Let's make a new and even better fried chicken to steal back our customers and revive the _Shoutengai!"._

" _YEAH!"._

The restaurant exploded with cheers and the mood was electrifying. Mayu felt more optimistic than ever before. She had complete confidence in Souma-kun. She wanted to do something but what? This was her home town and she walked through the _shoutengai_ every single day. She personally knew some of the vendors too. There had to be something she could do to help save the shopping district and support everyone. She had no talents that she could think of… which made her feel depressed. She wasn't sure if she was dependable for an operation of this scale. But she still really wanted to help Souma-kun…

"Hey Souma-kun, you're gonna need a taste-tester right? How about Mayu-chan!".

"WAAAH!".

Mayu was suddenly catapulted in Souma-kun's direction. The shock to her system left her a shivering mess in front of him. Her eyes teared up and her cheeks rushed with blood. His piercing golden eyes were on her and it made her legs turned to jelly. She wished he wouldn't be so close to her like this! She didn't know if she could take it anymore. Her heart hammered uncontrollably and she really wanted to shy away and crawl back to her table, pretending that she didn't hear anything and just be left alone to watch from a distance. Even worse, Mitsunaga-kun turned to look at her also with those fathomless pools of cobalt! Heavens! She wished the ground would swallow her up to.

"She isn't in any clubs, so she doesn't have anything else to do and she's a good taste tester too!".

"Really? Cool, I'll take you up on that Kurase-chan", beamed Souma-kun.

"Satsuki-chan! W-Why would you do t-that! I know nothing about cooking". Mayu cried at Aki-chan.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. The honest opinion of someone totally unconnected can be really helpful at times" Aki-chan cheered.

Mayu still felt helpless. She still couldn't think of anything else she could do. But Souma-kun said yes and that made her happier than anything. So she mustered all the courage she had left in her small body and met his eyes as best as she could.

"I… ummm… I'll do my best…!". She squeaked.

"Okay, first we need to scope out the enemy's dish ourselves". Mitsunaga-kun steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. "After that, it'll be time to hunt for our own dishes to counter it. We'll do that tomorrow".

"Hmm… fried chicken". Souma-kun mused aloud "I've made it a few times at _Yukihira Diner_ before, but just like that buffet challenge from camp, we're probably gonna need some specific knowledge… knowledge about _meat Hmmm_ …Aha! I have an idea!".

"What", asked Mitsunaga-kun.

"I know just the right person to be our fifth _party member_ ".

Did he mean more friends? From _Tootsuki?_ There were three of them here… Oh! Did he count her as the fourth member? Mayu fiddled with her fingers feeling extremely elated. Who else was coming? Souma pulled out his phone and started flicking through his contact list. His eyes lit up when he pressed the button to 'call'. Several seconds passed until his eyes lit up a few more watts.

"Hey Nikumi, it's Yukihira Souma…Huh?… oh sorry, I got it from Konishi- _senpai_ … so basically, I was hoping you'd teach me about chicken. Are you busy this weekend?… oh… if you're really that busy, I'll ask someone else— O-Oh? Okay, great! See you".

With that Souma-kun hung up and threw Mitsunaga-kuna two thumbs, who returned on in kind with hesitant restraint.

"I'm back!".

Hayato-kun bursted from the back room with a tablet in hand. He huffed and puffed until he reached them, his forehead dripped with sweat as he showed on the tablet screen, a PDF file and held out a tablet pen.

"Sorry I took so long, did I miss anything?".

"Umm—" Mitsunaga-kun began before he was interrupted by Souma-kun.

"I called Mito Ikumi to come and join us tomorrow. She's a buddy of mine who's really good with meat and — Uh… Ginsekai, are you alright? What's wrong?".

 _"I-I-I-Ikumi… M-M-Mito…?",_ stuttered Hayato-kun.

The blonde Tootsuki student turned white as a ghost! Mayu was confused, what was wrong? Souma-kun turned to him, really concerned whereas Mitsunaga-kun sighed and chewed his lower lip. He was deathly pale and his normally bright blue eyes started clocking out. Then with one-step backwards, he crumpled like a puppet, suddenly cut from his strings.

"Pull yourself together, Hayato-kun! Oooff!".

Mitsunaga-kun snatched the tablet as soon as it was released from tight fingers. Hayato-kun went down and his dark-haired companion caught him in the other arm, saving his face from hitting the edge of the table. Mitsunaga-kun quickly took the weight and dipped until he was on his knees using his thigh to support his fainted friend. The blonde chef laid there, half on the floor, still as a corpse, barely breathing at all.

"What happened? Is he going to be alright? He said her name like _that_ before he fainted. What's wrong with Nikumi?", asked Souma-kun, almost on the verge of panic.

"Mito-san isn't the problem… it's _him_ ". Mitsunaga-kun sighed and nodded towards his friend.

"What do you mean?".

Mitsunaga-kun pursed his lips and sighed.

"He has the _biggest_ and the most _debilitating_ crush on Mito Ikumi".

* * *

 **Ahhhhhh! Poor Hayato! How the hell is he going to work around Ikumi now?!**

 **I enjoy playing Tekken 3, Frogger, Crash Bandicoot, and Original Spyro on my still working PlayStation 1... I'm an old fart, but my face doesn't really reflect my true age... I still get people asking me what year I'm in, in high school :/ Ummm... I GRADUATED FROM UNIVERSITY BUT THANKS FOR NOTICING MY 'I-CAN'T-BUY-BLACKBERRY-CIDER-WITHOUT-ID' FACE**

 **Yozora, Hayato and Yukihira working together to save the Shoutengai! Huzzah! I like this trio very much :) Yukihira is slowly getting sucked into their world haha and I don't think Yozora and Hayato are going to let him escape kekeke.**

 **Please let me know what you guys think and I'll be back as soon as I can!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	7. Timed Quest Theme

_Chapter 7 - Timed Quest Theme_

* * *

"Whoa! They really did make this place look nice".

No matter how cheery Yukihira-kun sounded, it did little to distract Hayato from the tall and beautiful problem about three paces away from him.

The blonde gamer-chef's fingers itched to comb his fingers through his hair. He had a rough night and couldn't get a wink of sleep. _Argghh! Why was he such a dweeb?!_ The universe shrugged its shoulders for the millionth time. He did his best to resist looking at any of his _party members_ and kept his eyes on the in-station mall with dogmatic determination.

He nit-picked at his burgundy sleeveless sweater, feeling hot and cold at the same time. Damn it! He should've worn something with long-sleeves if he knew _she_ was going to be here today. His arms were just as pathetic as Tsurugi- _senpai_ said… limp like over-cooked pasta. His cheeks flushed and because of his sensitive, fair skin, it was likely to break-out and spread everywhere. He would be bright enough to be seen from ten kilometres away. His heart wouldn't calm down from the moment he dragged himself out of the bed he bunked with Yo-kun. He spent three times as long in the bathroom to fix his hair and drenched himself in deodorant which pissed the hell out of Yo-kun and Yukihira-kun.

' _This is the worst day of my life…! I wished I was as good-looking as Cloud Strife… strong like Geralt of Rivia… and charming like Dante… both versions'._

Hayato submitted to surreptitiously glancing from under his blonde side-fringe to the _party_ as they whistled and huffed at the huge expanse of the enemy's aesthetically pleasing territory.

' _Don't look at her… don't look at her… Shit! She's looking this way!'._

Hayato spun around and dramatically threw his leather-gloved hands up and accidentally smacked his hand into his forehead with a loud _thwack!_ He had the random intention to fake being focused on the furthest store-window, which housed a mannequin dangling a sparky pink leather hand-bag from her fingers. _Kami-sama_ was punishing him today…

' _I can do this… just concentrate on the objective. Attention to detail is my strength. Zoom in on the important features.'._

He shook his head and prepped for war. Hayato had to admit that the new in-station mall was the epitome of modernity! It was so clean, sleek and blindingly white. He felt like stepping into a science-fiction movie drowning in futuristic designs and aesthetics. Without looking, the blonde caressed his smart-watch, changing his current track which was country-western track into electric pop. He felt the upbeat rhythm of the sixty-beat per minute D-Major, four-chord composition take him on a less frazzled path to divert his crippling anxiety.

The shopping mall was an architecture that schools and hospitals could only dream of. The walkways flowed like tributaries to the main rivers of people, not a sharp angle to be seen. It smelled like heaven in a hand-basket and the floor shined like a lake at sunrise. Hayato loved shopping centres! It was his Mecca for the video-games, figurines, _manga_ , tech, gadgets, and the latest fashion and of course every shopping centre had to have a music shop. He could roam the aisles shuffling to wicked battle-tracks. He would bask in the attention of the sale staff and pawed over the new video-game album releases. He would try demo games and get a free promotional keyring for the latest video-game promotions to add to his over-flowing collection. He would come in feeling ordinary and then leave feeling like a billion- _yen_ warrior prince. His purchases spoke of his fanboying for video-game soundtracks and _first_ _person shooters_ on his various social media pages.

"So this is one of those in-station mall places, eh? So fancy!", chirped Yukihira-kun.

"They all look the same to me", Yo-kun yawned from behind his hand before lazily roving his eyes on anything that wasn't over-stimulating.

"You've got one in your home town, Mitsunaga?".

"Of course. The one where I live was built three years ago".

"Yeah". Hayato swung his arm around Yo-kun's neck, careful not to jostle his beloved headphones too much "Too bad Yo-kun couldn't make it to watch his dad do the special ribbon cut— oof!".

Yo-kun's knife-hand strike lodged into his unprepared diaphragm faster than one could roar _'Fusrodah!'._

"Man, with one of these things around, our _shoutengai_ wouldn't stand a chance!", said Yukihira-kun, not even noticing.

Hayato recovered with an imaginary ' _Healing Spell:_ _Curaga'_ and did well to avoid his best friend's admonishing glare. Whoops, he forgot. He normally couldn't stand looking at his friend when he was silently fuming and tried to avoid it as much as possible. Looking into his eyes was like watching the world end. Was _that_ _thing_ with his father still a no-go subject in front of non-Guild members?

"Umm… that's not something to joke about, Souma-kun…", squeaked Kurase-chan.

That girl was so adorable! When Hayato first saw her, she was a jumbling mess of nerves fidgeting and fiddling with the hems of her clothes until the threads almost unravelled. The way she looked down at her toes, escaping any form of eye contact made him want to reach out and pat her on the head and tell her that everything was a-okay. He could tell she was really close to Yukihira-kun before he transferred to Tootsuki. She was happy to help around _Yukihira Diner_ when she should be home and relaxing after-school. Yukihira-kun spoke highly of his middle school friends back at the _Rapport Building Training Camp_ during their _D &D tutorial, _one night _._ Yukihira-kun mentioned Kurase Mayu amongst the few names in his tight circle. He talked about how she was eally studious, caring and polite, always tried her best and never broke a promise. It was just that she had a tendency to freak out like a spooked cat, got all nervous for no reason and was prone to tears at the slightest thing. Despite all that she had a strong heart. Hayato-kun knew that Yo-kun and himself were random strangers whenever they were in the same room, but he didn't want it to be so. She was the spitting image of how Yukihira-kun described her. Small, cute and sensitive. Any friend of Yukihira Souma was a friend of Ginsekai Hayato!

So he thought offering his given name for her to use would help to ease the tension and show he was super-friendly to be around.

Also…

Being the rank-one _first person shooter_ of _The Guild_ meant his eyes missed _nothing._

The way she looked at Yukihira-kun from a distance was like a mirror of himself. Hayato always had a soft spot for people that were just like him.

"Oh yeah, thanks Nikumi! I'm really glad you made the time to come and help out".

Oh, be still his beating heart!

Hayato dragged his foot beside Yo-kun as his baby-blue eyes swelled up. His eyeballs gravitated towards the tall, bronze shining goddess bestowing Yukihira-kun with a scathing glare. It was _fucking_ sexy, that lucky bastard! He would give his right arm for any sort of attention from Mito Ikumi! The bright lights of the in-station mall shined onto her tall curvy height like a spotlight upon the divine summit of Mount Olympus. It made her skin glow like rich, sweet cocoa beans from Venezuela. He imagined it would feel soft and silky from a light, soft-scented balm which made her skin extra soft and shimmery. Hayato was on the verge of swooning for the tenth time. He was dead-sure her plump, luscious lips have been touched by the nectar of honey-suckles. His combat boots felt too heavy as it clonked clumsily and he concentrated on feigning nonchalance. She was wearing a light purple top which barely covered her upper body. It hung across her gorgeously ample breasts like tissue paper sticking to her supple skin with only rain-water, sparing no expenses for the wondering eye. Her toned and trimmed midriff revealed itself proudly and he was sure his _ecchi_ self was coming out. She wore a mini-skirt that was so short that it was doing him no favours at all! He was so glad his cargo pants were loose and baggy so no one could spot his boner! It hung low on her wide hips with only a leather belt with a large silver buckle to hold. The slits on both sides left tantalising thoughts in his steamed brain. It gave the perfect view of her thick, strong mocha-hued thighs.

She was perfect.

He was far from perfect…

"Oh uh… This wasn't a bother for you was it?", asked Yukihira

" _Not. At. All"._ She grounded out.

Hayato frowned and turned away. He cranked up the volume hoping that it could drown his mounting anxiety a bit. Yukihira-kun hadn't been in _Tootsuki_ all that long and he could already talk to Ikumi-san by an adorable nick-name just like that. It was obvious that she hated it… but she didn't do anything to really stop him. Hayato-kun had known the heiress to the Empire of meat sales and distribution since middle school and apart from cooking, video-games and analysing music, she was in his every waking thought… and he was not even a blip on her radar and why would he be? Yet, Yukihira-kun was acting all familiar with her, like he was her old friend. He was like a bright sun, all the planets gravitated around him. Something twisted in his heart. A guy and girl who shared the same goal working together are guaranteed to become way closer, right? Well… anyone with the normal allotment of courage, that was, and Hayato felt he had none of that.

"Hey. What are you staring at?".

Ikumi-san caught his eyes and Hayato immediately felt like a dirty letch. The imperceptible twitch in her round cheeks stabbed his chest like a bayonet. His insides trembled and instincts demanded him to tuck his tails between his legs and flee in shame. Her gorgeous blonde hair bounced around her head like a fashion model captured in slow-motion camera shots. Her deep topaz eyes dug into him as if trying to scrape him off her expensive, heeled sandals.

"N-Nothing!".

Hayato released an embarrassing squeak and scrambled behind Yo-kun. His best friend grunted and shot him with his razor sharp sapphires which made him offer a placating smile for an apology. Yo-kun sighed and shook his head. He was used to his antics when it came to these sorts of things and Hayato was grateful for it. He was used to being the coward of the group since that was how he'd always been before that fateful day when Yo-kun found him sitting by himself at the back of the toilet blocks eating lunch.

"You _Guild_ people are weird…".

Hayato could just vapourise like a wraith right now. The voluptuous beauty scoffed before turning away. _Urghh… his heart…_

"No-more weirder than anyone else at Tootsuki", Yo-kun deadpanned.

"What?!".

"What?", drawled Yo-kun as if he had a split second of amnesia.

' _What is he doing?! Does he want an ass-whooping?!'._

Ikumi-san blanched and Hayato face palmed. His stomach was falling out his arse and he shrunk further behind his best friend's back.

"You're that guy, Erina-sama's been hung up over, aren't you…".

Ikumi-san stopped and sauntered over, pulling up her incredible height against the pair, appearing ready to spill blood. Yo-kun and Hayato halted in their tracks as she cut off their path. She leaned forward and Hayato got an eyeful of her endless cleavage. He didn't know if he was in hell or heaven! His nose suddenly felt full of liquid, ready to flow freely out his nostrils like a dam.

Yo-kun stiffened at the mention of the Director's grand-daughter.

Nakiri Erina was like an open book which nobody wanted to read. It was so easy to figure out her emotions, especially when she was miffed, enraged, embarrassed and everything in between. Nobody wanted to be around _that._ She usually went from zero to a hundred which left her hapless victims dizzy and spiritually bruised. Was she on PMS all the time?! Every time Yo-kun and Nakiri Erina were within the same vicinity, the air was charged with so much tension that everyone felt awkward without knowing why. Most people couldn't read Yo-kun but Hayato, Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ could.

Tsurugi- _senpai_ and himself cornered Yo-kun right before leaving the apartment for _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_ and accused him of being attracted to Nakiri Erina because they felt like being arseholes. Oh, Yo-kun turned so red and got so ridiculously mad that he bit their heads off which left everyone stunned… but their suspicions were confirmed.

Their President of _The Guild_ had a little thing for the Nakiri Princess and he didn't even know it!

The unlucky bastard in-mention kept up his infamous unblinking gaze as if this sultry meat-goddess didn't affect him, but failed miserably. He was trying so hard to maintain his composure! Poor thing! Hayato snapped out of it and 'eeped' when she sucked her teeth in derision.

"Nothing happened between Nakiri and I", grumbled Yo-kun. He coughed into his fist and finally looked away, pulling up a bored mask over his pinking face.

"Sure. That's what she said too", said Ikumi-san drawled.

"Hey, it's the fried chicken place over there", blurted Yo-kun.

Yo-kun dropped the conversation like it was hot, and nodded towards the long queue of salivating families winding between cordoned off sides all leading up to the enemy's hideout. Hayato was released from the intoxicating beauty's attention and straightened up as he went back into quest mode. Damn. That place looked awesome. _Mozuya_ definitely pulled out all the whistles and stops! Golden brown, crispy fried chicken lounged behind the glass counter, bathing under the bright heating lights, teasing customers to buy huge packs at once. Pretty waitresses beamed and pampered dine-in customers and brought out plates and plates of scrumptious smelling _karaage_ dishes piled with crunchy succulent bits to excited tables ready to cram them into their hungry mouths.

" _Welcome! Welcome! Step right up, don't be shy!"._

A shrill voice pierced the air which amazingly, was enough to jar Hayato from the music dancing in his ears. Wow, that was a first. He pulled his earphones out and stuffed them into one of his many pockets on his cargos. Hayato's gazed landed on the source and concluded that he had never seen anyone that looked like a snake hybrid outside of a video-game! She was a short woman dressed in a pencil skirt and a yellow pinstripe uniform with a _Mozuya_ badge on the front. She waved a white _sensu_ around, hauling the customers into her shop. Her eyes were crinkled so tightly that he couldn't even see her eyes and she smiled so largely that it looked too alien for a human. _Kami-sama…_ she was a _basilisk_ in disguise. He realised her face looked so creepy because there weren't any natural creases around her eyes and mouths when she smiled like a crazy-arse killer. Maybe she had shots of botox to her face? It's kind of popular nowadays, right? Her sickeningly choppy pitch as she dipped and trilled her shout-outs for customers hurt his ears and he was sure that even _**dungeon bosses**_ would want to crawl back into their mother's womb if they heard her.

" _Welcome to Mozuya's, where we specialise in fried chicken!"._

"What?! The place you're going up against is _Mozuya's?!",_ gasped Ikumi-san as she whipped around to Yukihira-kun.

"You've heard of it?", he asked.

"Duh, it's a super famous fried-chicken chain in the _Kansai_ region", informed the busty beauty. "That lady over there must be Nakamozu Kinu herself, head of _Mozuya's._ She took a little shop based in _Kyoutou_ and turned it into a regional mega-chain. She already has the historic achievement of winning gold at the national fried-chicken championship three years in a row under her belt. Now she's looking to make it four and experts say she could win it".

"Man, there are a tonne of housewives here too", commented Yukihira-kun.

"Yeah and it'll only get more packed during dinner time", added Kurase-chan.

"It's especially popular with the young to middle aged women because their take-home packages are fashionable", continued Ikumi-san. "Lots of train commuters go out of their way to stop by this station just so they could come here"

Hayato already noticed that. The queue was about eighty percent women wearing pants or long, and flowing dresses and skirts. They waited patiently, but eagerly to place their order and receive their delicious pack of piping hot fried chicken. The boxes' crimson printed design was cute and trendy. There was a round, minimalist chicken image on the lid with the name _Mozuya_ embossed in simple, but cute font. It was about the size of a high school textbook which made it comfortable to hold in ones hands.

Hayato suddenly saw something cross the corner of his eyes and he quickly turned to follow what his keen vision picked up. Huh?… Oh fuck… that was the saddest situation he'd ever seen.

"Hey, Yukihira-kun. Isn't that Tomita-san?". Hayato tapped the red-headed chef and pointed to the poorly disguised man shuffling and ducking behind commuters to get closer to _Mozuya_.

"You're right. What are you doing here, sir!". Yukihira-kun waved his hand up and grabbed the Tomita-san' attention.

The poorly disguised adult looked utterly shocked to be recognised and pulled his overly-large trench coat closer to his body. His out-of-fashion shades and wrong-era fedora wasn't fooling anyone. Yo-kun scratched his head and he tilted his head at the _bentou_ shop owner's ridiculous behaviour.

"S-Souma-kun! _The_ _Guild_ too! I… Uh… I thought I'd tag along to s-see if I could help out!".

B

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S

H

I

T

"Oh. So what's with the get-up?", asked Yukihira-kun.

"Enemy territory. If they find out who I really am, it could be dangerous", he whispered.

"Right…".

"You should be careful too, Souma-kun. If they—".

" _C'mon now, there's no need for all this sneaking about!"._

Oh no… that ear-splitting voice…

" _Why don't you just line up with the other customers? Kaaaiiichooouuu no Shoutengaaaiii…"._

Hayato thought of video-game demons as menacing and frightening, but the apparition that spawned from thin air behind Tomita-san's defenceless back made Hayato shit a _lego_ garage. Her creepy-as-fuck grin emerged from behind like a _kabuki_ mask from the darkness and the corners of her slanted eyes slid up to her temples as if someone took a knife and carved it into her unholy face. Her pale skin certainly matched a poltergeist and Hayato felt a collective shiver erupt from everyone's spine in the _party._ Up close, her features were really sharp and angular encased by full-round-face. Definitely the face of a pain-in-the-butt villain.

 _Nakamozu Kinu._

"Are these young folks from the _Shoutengai_ too? Here, taste a bite on the house!".

Once she released her freaky claws from Tomita-san's shoulder she whipped out a metal tray of fried chicken from behind her back, like the disguised wicked witch from _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves_ pulling out her apple basket. Urrgghh… the similarities were uncanny. Crispy, beautifully battered pieces sat there prepared with toothpicks stabbed into them ready for the taking. Hayato licked his lips nonetheless as the fried chicken pieces whispered to him, seducing him to have a taste.

"Really? Don't mind if we do!", declared Yukihira-kun.

Just like that, everyone reached out and grabbed one and popped it into their mouths.

' _Holy fucking Bahamut. This is so good!'._

The outside was fried to light crispiness while the tender chicken inside was bursting with an _umami_ juiciness. Together, they packed such a flavourful _combo attack!_ It was like a barrage of X O triangle, square buttons pummeling his tongue.

"A-Amazing! How did you make something this yummy?", asked Kurase-chan.

"Oh hohoho! So you'd like to know?" The old bag targeted the _support mage_ of the group "We start with natural _oumi_ chicken breasts. _Oumi_ chickens are a top-quality breed. Completely grass fed! But what really seals the deal is our special _shoyu-_ based marinade made with a blend of grated apple and dozen secret herbs and spices which we thoroughly coat our chicken in. Then we delicately fry up each pieces to crispy perfection. It's so delicious and people have been calling it the World's Best Fried Chicken! _Ohohoho!_ ".

Nakamozu snapped her _sensu_ together and cackled behind it.

"Are you sure you should be blabbing about your secret recipe like that?". Yukihira-kun stepped forward. "We're here to scout you guys out, you know".

"Oh, no problem! No problem! It's not like you could ever make anything like that". She dismissed him. "And besides, how pathetic can you get, _kaichou no shoutengai_. Hiding behind a bunch of women and children. All you did was stand around and stare as your customers found better places to go. Don't you have any pride? Although, it's not as if having a creepy-looking man like you loitering around the shop didn't scare you off in the first place!".

Tomita-san's flinched terrible as each comment struck him.

" _You're such a LOSER"._

 _._

… Loser…

.

… _Loser…_

 _._

 _._

… _LOSER…_

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

… _Get out of Tootsuki, you fucking_ _ **loser**_ _…!_

… _Otaku_ _ **Losers**_ _like you will never be one of us…!_

… _What a useless_ _ **loser!**_ _That's why your parents left you and made you an_ _ **orphan**_ _…!_

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

"HEY".

White knuckles and straining leather from clenching his fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain composed, his coiled form exuded an animosity that was like acid. Burning. Slicing. Potent. Hayato's face felt scarlet with suppressed rage. Every word stung fueling the fire that burned inside him. Every belittling phrase was like gasoline to it. When the final fizzy candy with the engraved _'loser'_ was added to soda inside of him…

He shoved Yukihira-kun out of the way.

"Listen here, you fucking, mincing _COW_. Being smug and condescending doesn't make you important. It makes you an _ARSEHOLE!_ ".

"What?! How _dare_ y—".

"Your passive-aggressive trick doesn't mean _SHIT_ to any of us and let me fucking tell you somethi—".

"Ginsekai!—", he pushed Yukihira-kun's hand away.

"It must be nice being a self-righteous, critical _BITCH—"._

"Please, Hayato-kun!—", he ignored Kurase-chan's plea.

Multiple hands clamped down onto his shoulder and it only drove him harder to spit as many curses as he could in the cow's ugly face. What gave her the right?! _What gave her the FUCKING right?!_ He fought the resistance with all his might, his vision bleeding red and his ears muffling out every other sound except his roaring blood.

"I don't have to put up with this! _Someone get security!"._

The taste for blood intensified as soon as she re-opened her fucking mouth. His muscles burned as his restrainers dragged him across the shiny tiled floors away. Bewildered eyes swiveled to him but he didn't fucking care! His arms were locked on each side and his combat-boot clad feet kicked against the floor like a stubborn colt, trying to reach back at the _disgusting_ creature who _insulted_ their client!

"Call Tomita-san _ANYTHING_ one more _FUCKING_ time and I'm gonna rain down on you so _FUCKING_ hard _—"._

"Enough! Ginsekai—".

 _She was getting further and further away!_ Hayato kept hollering louder and louder across the in-station mall until his throat was raw, but he pushed hard and harder.

"— That you'd have to be re-assembled by _FUCKING AIR-CRASH INVESTIGATORS!"._

 **"STOP!".**

The enraged blonde teen choked on his tongue. His eyes snapped up and he drowned in a sea of deep, blue oceans. Worried rippling pools of water searched his face and a chill washed up his exposed arms. Gushes of wind whipped through his hair, his strands scratching across his face and dried red leaves skidded around his boots. Cool hands pressed to his scalding face. His sensibilities began to return, fractal by fractal. He realised he was heaving like a caged animal and took big gulps of fresh spring air to stop the bubbling sob that was going rip out of his throat.

' _Oh god… oh god… what have I done…'._

"You okay?".

He shut his eyes. No. No. _No_. He was such a _disgrace_ to _The Guild_ …

"I-I'm so sorry!... I'm so sorry Yo-kun! I-I didn't m-mean—".

"Hey it's alright. It's over".

A calming and gentle voice flowed in one ear and straight to his heart, like a piano medley. Hayato continued to hyperventilate until he was sure the _tempo_ in his chest settled back to normal. The inferno of fury continued to bake his insides, but he kept the oven door of his control sealed tight. Shame terrified him to no end and prayed to every deity that he didn't mess things up again, that he didn't screw up. He held onto one of Yo-kun's hands with his leather glove-clad hand and squeezed, never letting go.

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 _Never._

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* * *

… _I don't think you're a loser, Hayato-kun… I think you're really_ _ **cool**_ _…_

… _I concur. Your unfathomable_ _ **kindness**_ _makes you more of a valued person than your witless peers…_

… _You have_ _ **heart**_ _, squirt. How about you join our RS too? Whaddaya say?_ _…_

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

"It's a pleasure to meet you Iwato-san". Yozora nodded.

"Y-Yeah you too. Man, I'm so excited to be working with The Guild!". He catapulted forward. "I saw you at the TGS last year and it was amazing".

Yozora sized the nephew up as soon as he had laid eyes on him. The boy had been pacing back and forth behind the counter when he walked in. Iwato-kun had straight short hair which fell extremely close to his head like a swimming cap, the spitting image of his uncle. He had exceptionally large eyes which Yozora jokingly credited it to perhaps an over consumption of energy drinks, or maybe over-indulgence of sugar… In the end he settled with the notion that he was born to look perpetually surprised and alert. They sparkled and twinkled, excitement as he refused to back down from Yozora's own scrutinising. He looked willing to do anything, which would make completing the _quest_ easier.

Yozora looked over to Hayato-kun. He stood a bit off to the side and looked around a bit with a false smile on his face. It strained too hard and his jaw was still clenching and unclenching. Not to mention that his eyes were unusually distant. Despite that, he was alright now, just a bit shaken up and hopefully whatever track he was back to listening to was calming his nerves and guiding his mind to a better place. The outburst earlier in front of _Mozuya_ knocked everyone off their feet. It took all their collective strength to haul him out of the station as he spat threat after threat at the _Mozuya_ CEO as if his life depended on it. The savagery and vitriol that spewed from the most generous and the kindest boy's tongue he'd ever known was so seismic and even Yozora feared what his best-friend would unleash next. Women and children parted like the Red Sea and their owlish eyes followed their every move like judging and sentient surveillance cameras. It wasn't until they spotted the tops of tall security guards pushing past commuters to get to _Mozuya_ that Yozora clamped his hands over Hayato-kun's mouth and finally they were out the exit in the open air.

The boy was an utter mess.

But he pulled through. Yozora made sure of that.

It broke his heart to see his best friend almost back at square one… He might be wearing trendy and fashionable clothes that spoke of his passionate and outlandish love for pop-culture, and _now_ had a eye-catching hair-style to so that he could forget who he used to be whenever he looked in the mirror… but in _that_ moment … he was the spitting image of the broken boy whom he first met… easily torn apart by words that came from useless bigots…

"I know, your uncle told me. But right now, we don't have a lot of time. He said we could have free-reign. Hayato-kun and I have come up with a plan to help return your uncle's store back to its former glory".

"Right! Umm… my uncle said that _Yukihira Diner_ is joining the cause. Is that true?".

"Yeah. The whole _Shoutengai_ is in trouble so we've got to be extra. Yukihira-kun and other allies from _Tootsuki_ are working back at the _Diner_ to come up with fried-chicken recipes to undermine _Mozuya's_. They'll _draw first blood_ _._ With _The Guild_ … we'll own them, hard".

Yozora licked his lips. Iwato-san's eyes became saucers before coughing into his fist and broke out a nervous smile.

"So what's the plan?".

" _The Games and Arcade Centre_ will host a series of Free-For-All gaming event targeted for all ages. This is the perfect time because it's past mid-semester now, so junior high students will be free from their exams to do whatever they want. We're gonna provide them with some much needed fun to start their break on a _crescendo_ where they can play the latest and most popular multi-player and co-op games you've selected on the _Playstation 3_ ".

"Don't forget, we have the university students too!", yelled Hayato-kun from across the shop.

Yozora smirked.

"That's right. University and college exams are also finished. School and University peak hour times are different. They usually get home at later hours, so the high school students will be done by the time the University students arrive at the station. Old generation gamers from the nineties or early 2000s will definitely target the arcade machines, as well as the PS3. There is nothing like getting your hands on memorable games from your childhood. Ask any nineties or early 2000s guys and girls what their favourite game of _all time_ is. I guarantee you, they will talk about the ones from their generation or the games they first played, rather than the newer ones. Nostalgia is a powerful thing. Even if they grew out of gaming or just haven't played in so many years, but as soon as they _hear the music_ and _hear the sound effects_ , they won't be able to resist reliving that favourite childhood memory and get their hands on it. Trust me on that".

"O-Okay!".

Yozora circled the store and held his arms up wide as if he was a bishop in his cathedral.

"You have the space and everything you need here in the store to pull it off! But _The Guild_ will manage and organise all the specifics for you. Hayato-kun and I will host gaming-music themed cooking demonstrations to feed and entertain the crowd for the event. The more they play, the hungrier they get".

"Do you think this is going to work?".

Yozora placed his hands on his hips and looked at Iwato-kun square in the face.

"The _Shoutengai_ is only as good as its people. I've seen good people here, including you and your uncle. As long as you believe in yourself, in your uncle, in your workers, in the _Shoutengai_ and in _us_ and put in the hard work, you'll succeed with flying colours".

Yozora could see the weight lift from Iwato-kun's shoulders as if an overly large child had just leapt off after a satisfying piggy-back ride. He stood taller now. His face broke into a grin and he nodded in excitement. That's it, now Iwato-kun had the determination of a _paladin._

"Yeah! Okay let's get started. What do we need to do first?".

"First, we need all hands on deck. The merchandise at the store window needs to be relocated, the shelving is taking up too much valuable space and need to be pushed to the back of the store. I want those arcade machines which are doing _nothing_ in the back, to be out the front where the storefront window is. I saw power outlets near there so we can move the power-board and extension cords there too".

"Yes, sir! Shigo-san, Hikari-san, Kino-san. Please take the products off the shelves and pack them in boxes, then move the shelves to the back!".

Iwato-san called out towards the back and three people came running. Two men and lady who wore matching glasses and matching uniforms stumbled out and pulled to a stop as if responding to a drill command. Yozora jumped up! Were they lurking in the back the whole time?! Yozora hadn't seen anyone move so fast since Hayato-kun. They nodded and immediately did as they were told. Yozora didn't miss the curious and bewildered glances they snuck at himself and Hayato-kun. They whispered to each other in hushed tones as they delegated and broke down the tasks into little chunks. Yozora watched as they shuffled and flitted back and forth from each other, filling their arms with games and merchandises.

"I told them _The Guild_ was coming and they didn't believe me", whispered Iwato-kun.

Yozora bobbed is head, finally understanding the cautious tip-toeing around them and looks of disbelief. The back of his head prickled and his cheeks felt warm. Right now, they had no time for introductions or getting over embarrasment; they have a _shoutengai_ to save within three days. Busy bees knuckled down and started to systematically gather the stock and broke out some cardboard boxes to pack things up and move them to be un-packed safely and orderly later. Yozora rubbed his chin and tried to figure out what needed to happen next so that everything could go smoothly.

"Seikan-san said there are two flat-screen TVs out the back that we could use. Bring them to the other store-window and hook up the _Playstation 3_. Pick out three of your best co-operative and multiplayer games to go with it", continued Yozora.

"Got it. Why do we need to move the arcade machines, though? Can't they stay at the back?".

"Because, my friend! We need colourful lights, music, noises, and action happening out front and centre to attract people. We want them to see the fun stuff. If you put the party in the back, nobody is gonna know about it!", chirped Hayato-kun.

That's right. All the classic gaming devices and demo-stations were pushed to the back of the store. What were they doing there? Collecting dust for the sake of being memorabilia which no-one would see beyond the collection of twenty-first century games and merch. Eighties games were legendary and quintessential to the existence of the modern games. Their music and archetype were studied by gaming developers and were the basis for everything they had today and it was a _crime_ that they were shoved to the back like old people abandoned to nursing homes. Seikan-san said nostalgia wouldn't let him get rid of those beautiful arcade machines. Well… sitting untouched beyond the reach of gaming fans out there… they might as well be dumped for scraps. If they _Games and Arcade Centre_ wanted to be on the front page again, they needed to remind the public exactly what they were all about.

"Bring out the Wii console and _Mario Cart_ game too. The elementary school kids are gonna drag their parents over once they hear the commotion".

Iwato-san scribbled down onto a notepad and nodded furiously as Yozora commanded. Hayato-kun leapt to help the three shop attendees, much to their surprise and pleasure. He pulled some random topic out of his butt, and forced it onto the shop attendees like a spurt of rainbow after an abrupt rain. They were held prisoner to Hayato-kun's loud and gleeful opinions about anything he could think of and answered his question in unsure, but happy words. The rag-tag group soon melted in fun and easy conversation as they worked together. Trust Hayato-kun to break the ice. Okay, while the re-organisation of the shop was underway, Yozora continued to rattle of the rest of the plan to Iwato-san. It was going to be a long. Yozora rolled up his sleeves and got busy moving and rearranging things.

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* * *

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"I can't believe this took a whole day!". Hayato-kun wiped his brow and leaned against the last arcade machine they heaved with the box-trolley.

Yozora strained to see through the sweat trickly past his eye-lids. Fantastic. The whole floor was cleared and ready to be filled with people. Everyone had already collapsed on the floor and gulped down water as they murmured their achievements for the day in half-arsed cheers. They had turned one of the metal shelves on its side to prop up the two flat-screen TVs and the _Playstation 3_ and _Wii_ -console. The controllers sat neatly on their docks ready to be used and the variety of games laid splayed out, ready to be picked. The arcade machines were wiped down and cleaned until the bright designs were gleaming and the screens were crystal-clear and teeming with neon colours, blinking and winking with glee. Yozora was proud. It was coming together nicely even if it took a chunk of the day.

"Umm…". Iwato-kun fiddled with his glasses. "I don't mean to be a party-pooper but…".

"What is it?". Yozora turned his head.

" _Mozuya_ is in the most advantageous position anybody could have. From the train-station, they can attract the attention of the commuters coming through _and_ those still on the trains. Our customers won't even look at the _Shoutengai_ so how will we get their attention before _Mozuya_ does?".

Yozora turned his head the other way and was instantly met with his best-friend's tired but present smirk. Iwato-san continued to huff and puff under his breath and Yozora felt the air grow quiet and still.

"By using the one thing _every_ single person on the planets has in their pocket!~" sang Hayato-kun.

 _Bi-bi- bi- bi… bi- bi- bi- bi-… bi- bi- bi- bi-…_

Yozora rolled his back down on the carpet and grabbed his phone. How much he'd give for a nap right now… noon was his favourite time to doze off and forget about everything. His eyes drooped and his limbs sank by his side and he didn't want to move. But he had to because his phone wasn't going to answer itself. Sluggishly lifted it to his face and answered.

"Yeah?".

" _Mitsunaga, how's your end holding up?"._

"We're done with set up. You?".

" _We've got a winning fried chicken recipe here. Come back to the diner and try it"._

"We're on our way". Yozora hung up.

"Was it Yukihira-kun?", asked Hayato-kun.

The president of _The Guild_ lifted his arms up towards the ceiling and just waited. On cue, Hayato-kun found his feet and went over to his friend and grabbed his wrists in a monkey grip and hauled him up. If Kasai- _senpai_ spotted his act of petulance and toddler-like behaviour, he would frown at him and push up his spectacles with his middle finger to send the frosty message.

"Yeah, he's done with the fried chicken recipe. Let's go".

"Good timing, I'm so hungry".

"What's happening tomorrow?", asked Iwato-kun.

"We'll take care of tomorrow. You guys go rest. Leave it to us now".

"Okay. Thank you so much!".

"No worries! Good job guys!".

Hayato-kun was already out the door and waving his hands about, excited to run back to the diner to fill his belly with delicious fried chicken. Yozora took his time to stroll through the main strip. _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_ was just a two days away from being post-card perfect. Dried leave swirled around like shoals of fish in a myriad of directions. Yozora smiled. He nodded at vendours and mongers who were working their slow days and they nodded back in kind, acquainted with him now because of Yukihira. Shop keepers busied themselves with cleaning, checking, and ordering and some simply stood outside to watch the day go by with stony faces.

"Yo-kun! Get your butt here, this tastes amazing!".

Yozora looked up and was greeted by Hayato-kun, Yukihira, Kurase-san and Mito-san crowding the front entrance of the famous diner. They each held something in their hands that looked like a mini-wrap of some sort. Yozora hurried it up and when he arrived at the diner, the overwhelming smell of hot oil, flavourful spices and cooking meat slammed into him. It made his stomach growl.

"What's that?".

"Our secret weapon".

A piping hot packet was thrusted into his hand and Yozora fought to drool right then and there. The glistening golden brown pieces of thicken overflowed from a halo of fresh lettuce. It's a fried chicken wrap! It was encased in a warm and loving cocoon of some sort of thin wrap that was just as light and crispy. The urge to squeeze the weighty food in his hand was great, it felt so good to hold it in his hand. He couldn't take it anymore and he bent down to take a bite of the Yukihira's and Mito-san's latest creation.

' _Ah! The chicken is so tender!'._

Yozora's mouth hung open to let the steam escape. His tongue curled around each ripped-off piece of chicken and wrap and rolled it around in his mouth to let it cool. Each surface was blessed with punchy flavours. The crispy and crunch breading released the most satisfying sound as it yielded to his teeth. The chilli sauce sliced through and it's salty, sweetness and _umami_ combination coating the chicken and wrap was delicious and left him wanting to take another point without finishing his first morsel. The juicy flesh of the twice fried chicken squirted with each chew and it sent his head into a spin with how gorgeous the high-quality meat tasted. The aromatic pepper and ginger filled him with embracing warmth which filled his throat and nostril. The flavours and texture came together to party in his mouth, and party in his _heart_. Yep this was a winner. This was going to shiv _Mozuya_ in the gut.

Yozora polished off the rest of his fried chicken wrap before it had a chance to cool down.

"You made the crepe-wrap with rice flou—".

"Yep! We took inspiration of _banh xeo_ from Vietnam. Rice and fried chicken is a match made in heaven, so we came up with an idea that can use rice and re-create it into a form that's easy to eat on the go and just as delicious. Better than _only_ fried-chicken in a box, right? It starts with chicken thigh meat cut into big, thick chunks. Then they're set to marin—".

"I can tell what you guys did from eating one. We're from _Tootsuki_ too _,_ remember _?_ Give Hayato-kun and I some credit". Yozora chuckled, holding up his hand.

Yukihira's grin was blinding and his excitement could barely be contained. Even Mito-san looked extremely proud of what they created. He thought he'd never see Kurase-san looking relaxed or relieved, but right now she wasn't flustered, twitchy or tripping over trying to help. Hayato-kun was busy inspecting the kitchen looking over the ingredients they used.

"So what are you bringing to the table, Mitsunaga", asked Yukihira.

"We're hosting an An All Ages gaming event and doing live cooking demos tomorrow", replied Yozora. "Grab everyone's attention and pull them to centre of the _Shoutengai_ and get some food there stomachs".

"How are you going to do cooking demos? They don't have a kitchen there. Are you going to bring a portable stove?".

"There's no way a portable stove would achieve _anything_ in our battle with _Mozuya,_ Yukihira!".

Mito-san cuffed him across the head in a fit of fury. Yozora didn't miss the way Hayato-kun grabbed his chest and swooned. He was _so_ weird sometimes. The red-headed chef propelled forward, stunned and bruising from the impact. He rebounded in a blink of an eye and rubbed the sore spot, giving the meat-specialist the stink eye.

"Think _portable_ _cooking station_ s _"_.

"EH?!".

The dumbstruck group floundered. Their breaths cut off short as if stuck underwater and only slow warbles left them. It sounded unbelievable and he totally understood that. Who would've thought an itty-bitty insignificant RS like _The Guild_ with barely any support and funding from Tootsuki would have something as sophisticated, grand and expensive as a bunch of portable cooking stations in their _inventory bag_ _._ Wait until they found out what were in the _extra equipment slots_ , which Yozora wanted to save for another time. All the portable cooking stations at _Tootsuki_ were school-owned and were only loaned to RS's that were higher ranking, the Elite Ten and basically anybody else who were influential in the school, or whom the school could benefit from. _The Guild_ flew under the radar ever since they first formed and unbeknownst to most people in at _Tootsuki_ , it worked to their advantage when it came to accumulating their own funds and gears.

 _The Guild's_ blog and inbox for _quests_ could reach places and people _Tootsuki_ wouldn't bother to, to support the most unpopular RS in the school.

"We scored some state-of-the-art portable cooking stations from the CEO of _Panasonic._ We catered for his daughter's wedding reception and the after-party two years ago. The bride and groom are big _Pokemon_ fans, and it was through their _Pokemon_ hobbies that they met and fell in love. So all the gourmet food dishes we invented were _Pokemon_ music themed. Anyway, they were really impressed by the quality of our service and food and so they rewarded us with something super-useful for all our other _quests_ ", said Yozora.

"Hold up…". Yukihira leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. "I've been in your clubroom and it's _tiny._ Where do you keep them?".

"We have our own storage unit under _The Guild's_ name for other things we can't keep at Tootsuki!". Hayato-kun jumped in.

"Wait… there's more?!". Mito-san slammed her hands on the kitchen bench.

"The manager of one of the _Quarez_ offices in downtown _Tokyo_ hired us to organise and cater for his son's university graduation dinner party for friends and family. He's a fan of the _Zelda_ series", continued Yozora.

" _Quarez_ is Japan's biggest self-storage company and delivery service… and they rewarded you with your own _storage unit?!"_ gasped Kurase-san.

"Yeah. But we didn't need anything huge so technically it isn't a loss for the company to give us a smaller one. The manager said we can keep it free of charge and use their delivery service until _The Guild_ is finished. Again, it's peanuts to them".

Under Kasai- _senpai's_ leadership, _The Guild_ was able to establish useful connections and items to add to their arsenal. Yozora felt those were big shoes to fill, but he was confident that he could do the same and spread _The Guild_ far and wide… spread the joy… continue to break barriers… unite people with food and music.

"So you've already called in _Quarez_ to deliver your portable cooking stations to _The Games and Arcade Centre_ for tomorrow?".

"Yep. The manager was happy to send it out first thing in the morning" Hayato-kun yawned. "Oh yeah, we've brought speakers and sub-woofers to play music to go with the food and atmosphere. Hence the huge luggage".

"That's more like it. What songs are you going to play?", asked Yukihira.

"We've picked out our party mix, customised for the event. We've got some special techno and dubstep arrangements from _Witcher, Final Fantasy, Devil May Cry, Halo, Pokemon, Mario,_ you name it, to get the crowd hyped. But the icing on the cake will be _Bonus Track_ from the album we are studying right now for my cooking performance" said Hayato-kun.

"Which would be…".

"My specialty cooking style is _Teppanyaki!_ ".

Yukihira-kun whistled lowly. Yozora could see that Mito-san was holding in her incredulity very nicely. Although there was a disgruntled stiffness in her shoulders as if she didn't still quite believed them. He looked over to Hayato-kun and as predicted was standing the furthest away from Mito-san and was back to mooning over her like a lost calf. Thankfully for him, she didn't seem to be paying attention to him all that much anymore… which wasn't new anyway.

"All right!", yelled Tomita-san. "We'll start a huge advertising campaign right as these go on sale. I'm going to have to get started making fliers and posters. If I really push, I could have it together in say… A week. Things are about to get really busy".

Yozora shook his head.

"No, we're launching our attack _tomorrow afternoon"._

"B-But the f-fliers and p-posters! I'll never make it in time!", Tomita-san horrified gasped mirrors everybody else's concern.

"Relax, Tomita-san!".

Hayato-kun kicked off the door-frame he was leaning on. How on Earth did he find the energy for switching between being upbeat and getting panic attacks around Mito-san?

"You've hired _The Guild,_ remember? Gamer-chefs who analyse video-game music to create innovative recipes? We've performed in TGS and 'cons' every year to do things like this all the time. And how do you think we get _quests_ from all across _Tokyo?_ We've come _this_ far and have gain _this_ much by racking up a pretty big online presence within the gaming and _anime_ circle, and creating a new demand for the twenty-first century food culture. You're talking to children of the internet".

"S-Social media…?".

His prehistoric reaction was almost endearing.

"You want _instantaneous_ advertising and promotions?". Yozora lifted his arms up. "Internet, _Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, our blog, Reddit, Line_ and everything else teenagers can access on their smartphones will do all that for you!".

"That's right…", Yukihira-kun turned around. "Posters and fliers can only go as far as you can run. But everyone is always carrying their phones wherever they go, logging onto their favourite apps, updates, and checking the latest news and trends while they're walking or riding public transport, or at school and at home… _anytime… anywhere…_ That's perfect! That's how we'll let everyone know what's going down in _Sumiredouri Shoutengai!"._

"You guys can pull it off?". Mito-san quirked her brow.

Yozora cocked his head at them.

"We're the _kings_ of social media".

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* * *

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 _ **Two Days Later**_

" _Well? How is it?"._

"No problems sir!", Kinu chirped in her phone. "It's only natural of course, what with someone of your stature backing us up".

She could smell the money rolling into the bank account. She didn't need to check the sales statistic to know it's there. Everyday, the lines and arrows on the graph climbed and climbed and it filled her with a sickening fascination for how much higher it would go or when it would fly off the charts. _Karaage senmonten Mozuya_ was such a far cry from what it was five years ago. Her family business was just a humble take-out and diner in _Kansai_ making their specialty fried chicken for the ordinary working family. But Nakamozu Kinu wanted more than that… So much more… Her home town loved her family's fried chicken but her father and mother just refused to expand! They could've been swimming in riches in her childhood! It was such a waste and a mistake on their part, but no longer.

 _She_ was now the owner and CEO of her family business.

" _Keep close tabs on the pulse of the market and make the best moves as early as possible. That's the first law of successful business"._

Her blood boiled.

"Such a worrier for someone so young! Everything is fine here. It's all smooth sailing! The only blip is a bunch of kids in the _shoutengai_ trying to cook something up".

" _Kids?"._

"But that's just a triviality. Hardly worth mentioning at all!". Kinu flipped her ponytail and laughed. "Anyway, business is booming as usual! It's only a matter of time before this whole town belongs to _Mozuya!"._

The need to crush the street urchins in the inferior _shoutengai_ was like a rat gnawing at her soul, relentless, unceasing. They think they could go up against a multi-million dollar franchise? _Laughable_. She ought to teach them a lesson, but they'd get there's when their little schemes fail and she wouldn't need to lift a finger. But… that weird blonde one from yesterday still annoyed her to no end. She went to sleep with his words haunting her mind until her brain shut down for her nightly rest. He dared to mouth off at his senior and use crude language at a lady such as herself?! That brat!

Kinu snapped her _sensu_ shut.

" _Look into those kids just in case. If anything happens, call me right away. Got it?"._

 _Click. Boop… Boop…Boop…_

Ugh! More uppity kids thinking they could order adults around! This Eizan Etsuya character was such a pain in the arse. He talked as if he was better than her. A viper in a teenager's body. She hated kids. It was one of the reasons why she refused to get married and have any of her own. She could barely deal with her nieces and nephews. His business sense and strategies were a gold mine and so she endured his exorbitant consultation fees and his smart-arsery so that Mozuya could take over Japan in the _karaage_ scene. She imagined the four-eyes' face rearranged with the business end of a shovel.

One thing the two of them had in common was their taste for money. Money was a manifestation of power and Kinu did enjoy the power she had over being the only one fulfilling the customers' desires and cravings.

"Alright. Let's see how long the queue will line up today~".

Kinu got up from her office seat and straightened her uniform. She pasted on her favourite Cheshire smile and picked up her _sensu,_ ready to wave in the customers. She crossed the floor in her low heels and opened the office door. She weaved though the short corridor until she emerged out into the open store front of the in-station mall.

"This is it! The afternoon rush has begun! Time to make our money for the day!".

Before she could count how many families were filling up the cordoned off area for take-aways, the store manager approached her.

"Um Nakamozu-san, we've just received the invoice for this quarter's consultation fees".

' _Ugh! That kid doesn't waste time, does he'._

"Hmph. I think we'll terminate our contract with that snotty little kid. There's no need for him anymore".

As long as she had her family's secret marinade recipe, she was safe. Not only that, she now had the impregnable fortress of a modern store-front in the trendiest and most advantageous location. A ghost town of a shopping district would disappear. Today, like every other day. She would simply sit back inside her castle and let this whole town throw their money at her!

' _Hmm, the line is shorter today. But it doesn't matter. Those bunch of students over there will – Huh? They walked right past…'._

Kinu stopped fanning herself and opened her eyes. What's going on? They strode past as if _Mozuya_ didn't exist. That was preposterous. The irresistible aroma of fried chicken was powerful and mouth-watering. Weren't their appetite whet? Weren't they hungry? Maybe they already ate… wait… What where they holding in their hands. Ice-cream? No, it looked like fried chicken… Kinu watched those boys like a hawk and soon they picked up the pace until they jogged and then full out sprinted towards the exit, not a look back.

Kinu opened her fan again and spotted another group of students craning their necks over their smartphones. She smirked. Heh, they'll be wanting some after-school snacks right now and _Mozuya_ was per— aaaaand they were gone.

' _What? Where are they running off to…'._

Kinu snapped her _sensu_ shut again and marched to the entrance of the in-station mall. Another student rushed past her and jostled her elbow, almost sending her to the light pole. She was about to yell after him for being careless and bumping into her, but nothing left her mouth when she spotted a flood of young kids and students alike cramming into the entrance of the _shoutengai_. They were carrying their smartphone in their hands and waving them around as if recording something.

"You! Over there!". She yelled at a passing kid.

"Uh… yes ma'am?". He stopped in his tracks and turned to her.

It was that blasted fried chicken again! He held it halfway to his mouth. She had spotted a total of seven kids holding that in their hands. It was golden fried chicken nestled amongst crispy lettuce all wrapped up in some sort of thin tortilla. The scent was tantalising. There was a brand on the wrap which looked like a flower of some sort, right in the middle. It damn looked familiar. She squinted her eyes and read the label on the paper wrapping.

 _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_

' _URGH! THOSE BRATS!'._

"What's going on over there?". She pointed her _sensu_ at the growing crowd of people flowing into the entrance.

"Oh! _The Games and Arcade Centre_ is holding a free-for-all gaming event in collaboration with _Tomitaya_ _Bentou_ shop. They're show-casing the latest video games for everyone and some eighties and nineties arcade games. Anyone can have a go! It says that people of all ages can come and join the fun, play and watch. There's a live cooking demonstration too with music! See for yourself".

The annoying boy showed her his phone and she leaned down to inspect. It was already set to Facebook and she read the post, confirming everything the boy said. What? Gaming event? Next, the boy switched from Facebook to Snapchat and Kinu's eyes widened at the short video before her probably filmed by his friend. It was those brats from yesterday! The mouthy one and the one with disturbing eyes. They were dressed up in some ridiculous outfits cooking away flamboyantly behind two cooking stations that were parked just to the side of _The Games and Arcade Centre._ It was teeming with people holding the very same chicken wrap with the infuriating brand and small cardboard packs of street food lined with napkins with the brand again! Kinu's temple pulsed with anger. She looked up away from the screen and saw young teenagers holding their phones and pointing too.

"Twitter is exploding with these Gamer-che—".

"Here". Kinu thrusted his phone back at him.

She was going to put a stop to this!

She sprinted as fast as she could in her low heels to the _shoutengai._ The crowd flowed down the same way as the rivers met its banks. It moved like a multi-headed beast that shared only one brain. Everyone was on their bloody smartphones! She spotted various social media sites over their shoulders, all talking about a collaboration gaming event right in the heart of the _shoutengai_. The graphics for the image post on Facebook was impressive, which she hated to admit. The crowd was so jubilant and joyful. The atmosphere was one of elation, the warm spring air punctuated by whoops and cheers coming from the centre. A cacophony of applause and cheering, clapping and stamping feet exploded. Palpable excitement buzzed through the energised air.

" _It says here that they've got old-gen games too! Fuck, nothing beats the original stuff. I haven't played one of those in ages. Let's go guys!"._

" _Mum, I want to play Mario Kart! Can we, please?"._

" _You had good marks on your test this semester, so sure sweetie. We can get some Sumire Fried Chicken wrap too"._

" _The Games and Arcade Centre is letting us demo on the new PS3 Slim model! We have to check it out!"._

 _"Oh my god, I heard they're letting us play the Marvel vs. Capcom and Tekken games for free! I'll probably have to buy it after I try it out!"._

Once Kinu reached the epicentre, her nose was hit with fragrant aromas of vegetables, egg, noodles which screamed of festival street food. Kids clamoured around large flat-screen TVs battling each other on some asinine multi-player game. She had no interests in games, and whatever brain numbing entertainment they offered, had the kids and young adults hook-line-and-sinker. The retro bleeping of arcade games had the older teens and university cheering like sports team, deep and loud as they pressed a myriad of buttons furiously on the arcade machines. Ugly and primitive characters beated each other up on the cathode-ray scream which made everyone crowding the screen cheer and yell as if they were at the Soccer World Cup. Kinu growled and carried on, looking for those brats. She didn't need to travel far to find them. Music was blasting from hidden speakers and Kinu struggled to gain her bearings amongst the sights, sounds and smells pummelling her.

" _Who's up next!"._

" _Me!"._

" _Hold the cardboard box steady now, I don't want to ruin my thirty-sixth streak"._

Kinu's eyebrows arched for the sky! The two kids from yesterday were dressed up in some sort of costume. It was bright an colour and definitely belonged in some sort of fantasy realm. They stood behind cooking stations, cooking up a storm and the crowd cheered whenever one of them performed some sort of amazing trick, banging and flipping spatulas, moving sizzling noodles and vegetables about on the hot griddle. _Teppanyaki?!_

The music was energetic mix of beats and and synthesisers trilled through the air, the bass dropped so many times that Kinu's heart thumped through her stomach every time it did. It worked the crowd up into a frenzy as they took photos and videos on their smartphone, posting it all up on the internet.

" _Their chef's uniform looks so good, doesn't it?"._

" _Yeah. It's totally inspired from Kingdom Hearts! Can you tell that, that one there is Roxas and the other is Sora?"._

" _Where did they buy them from? Do you think they had it custom-made?"._

" _I want to take photos with them so baaaaad~"._

Kinu gritted her teeth. She pushed back through the suffocating crowd and made it back onto the main road. This was humiliating! How?! This place was a ghost town just two days ago! Burning rage rushed through her body like lava spewing from a volcano. She hissed, her frustration demanding release in the form of unwanted violence. Instead, it swept her off in waves of fury. The wrath consumed her.

" _I'll take one please!"._

" _Me too!"._

" _That's two wraps, comin' right up!"._

Kinu's back snapped straight. Those chicken wraps… those kids came up with something that was able to steal her customers away? Kids with their mothers stood around munching on their wraps with abandoned joy.

"Whoa hey! Look who's here! It's _Mozuya!_ ". She jolted and ice dripped down her back."Why all the sneaking around? You could just line up with everyone else you know".

She scoffed at that ugly twist of her own words. He really wanted her to rub it in, did he? He stood there with a smug grin on his petulant face. His arms crossed over his chest were puffed out. He thought he won!

"How long have you been planning this?", she hissed.

"Huh? Since three days ago".

"H-How?!".

"We got all our appliances and utensils from the hardware store. The _Sumire_ branding mark was a special order at the metal workshop. All our ingredients and produce are from the green grocer and the butcher, which was overseen by the heiress of _Mito Group._ The entertainment is yours truly from _The Games and Arcade Centre._ The image posts, advertisements were designed by my friend Kurase-chan and her little brother, Hiro-kun. Event-management, advertising and promotions, social media, live music and cooking demos were done by the boys from the _The Guild._ It was their idea to turn this place into a mid-day mini-festival jammed pack with food, fun and great people and company".

Unbelievable… With that wrap… no… with that bunch of kids as the foundation, they've breathed a whole new life into this _shoutengai!_ She underestimated them. They might be just kids, but they'd all got the minds of tacticians! In a blink of an eye, the brats built up an army that's got _Mozuya_ surrounded. It's as if they built a castle in a day!

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in".

Kinu turned around and was confront by two of the other infantile vermin. They were decked out in colour schemes that belong at a fun-park than actual chefs in the kitchen. The dark-haired one was dressed in obviously a chef's uniform design, however it was embellished further. It was mostly black and grey and lined with silver and maroon. Instead of the double breasted front, it was held together with a longer zipper. Behind him, she spotted a grey hood which was folded own against his back. It was short sleeved and his lapels were folded down, held together with gold buttons which lined down his chest to stop it from flopping around while cooking. His chef's trousers were also grey and black. Red thigh belts fitted around both his legs and they puffed out a bit before tied off at the calves. The blonde one was sporting a more upbeat colour-scheme or white and black with red trimmings. Strips of black and white check designed were stitched across his front and his up his shoulders. His chef's uniform was also short sleeved which was fashioned into a form fitting jacket and in inner vest held together with a zip. His pants were half white and dark grey, stitched with huge fake pockets to the sides.

"What was it you said before? That's it's _'only natural'_ for a place with no competition or individuality to dry up right?", said the blonde one.

She bit her lip, her ire bursting at the seams.

"Think again", said the dark-haired one. "There is diversity everywhere. _The Sumiredouri Shougentai_ has its own brand of power and artisans, and will survive. They've got something brighter and more valuable than just simple profits or big margins".

' _Urghhh!'._

" _Community and culture"._

She crumpled to the pavement.

' _Damn it…! They've beaten me…'._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

Eizan switched his tablet off. Keh… He didn't want to fucking hear it from Nakamozu. Their sales plummeted without warning in the last few days and it was only getting worse. Wrong, there _was_ warning. She mentioned some kids scheming some half-cocked idea in the _shoutengai_ opposite the store. He knew her pride wouldn't let her take his advice and check them out, so he sent some of his lackeys down there to scope the situation. They returned with three names.

' _Yukihira, Mito and The Guild'._

The _fucking_ Guild.

Eizan shoved his tablet back into his pouch and stormed off in the opposite direction. Frustrations poured from his pores. He quickened his pace to return to his office immediately and sort out the fucking mess Nakamozu landed herself in. His reputation as a business consultant was pristine and he had no plans for any smudges from little upstarts that could've been avoided. He'd been a culinary consultant since junior high for a variety of firms. It was _his_ advice that renovated the kitchen of an old, long running traditional inn and revitalised its business. He'd accepted jobs from Michelin star restaurants to design new menu offerings. _Mozuya_ was his most recent job and _he_ was the one who guided that _Kyoutou_ fried chicken shop to back-to-back gold medals in the national tournament. In total, he'd already handled over five hundred different jobs for dozens of clients.

"I can fuck over Yukihira and Mito… but not _The Guild_ …".

He couldn't _touch_ the fucking no-name RS.

Not with Ishikagaku and Yuujou still in the picture.

* * *

 **Uh oh... why does Eizan have _such_ negative feelings towards Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai?_ (Just in case if anyone forgot, their last names are Ishikagaku and Yuujou)**

 **Team Yukihira, Mito and _The Guild_ pulled off their first quest together! Well done you all and now GET YOUR BUTTS BACK TO SCHOOL BECAUSE YOU STILL HAVE THE AUTUMN ELECTIONS TO POWER THROUGH! The Guild is packing more than any of the other character's realise ;)**

 **Poor Hayato-kun... he's had it rough in his life, but he's totally in a better place now (I hope).**

 **I didn't expect to be here so soon, but I'm glad to be welcoming back everyone to another chapter of The Guild :) I hope you found this chapter as enjoyable as I did writing it.**

 **Let me know what you think, and I'll be back again!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	8. Safe Haven

_Chapter 8 - Safe Haven_

* * *

"Just park somewhere. I'll call you when I'm ready to go home".

"Yes, Erina-sama".

Erina nodded and walked off in the opposite direction. She'd made sure to pick a day for her outing when Kenta-san would be her main body guard as he was the most reasonable and most compliant to her wishes. She listened to the strong rumble of the engine as the expensive black automobile peeled away until she couldn't see it anymore. There. Now she was alone, and it was more daunting than she thought. She felt her chest thrum as her heart picked up on the vulnerable situation she put herself in.

…The Nakiri Heiress…

… going shopping…

… on her own…

So many things could go wrong. What if her phone ran out of batteries? What if she lost phone reception? What if _she_ got lost? What if Kenta-san had a flat tyre and couldn't pick her up and she was left stranded? Erina took in the bustling town without a companion to share it with. It was like she was viewing it differently without Hisako. The colours were intensified under the glow of the high sun making her unsure of where to look. The pigeons were circling above, casting huge shadows that swam in circles around the plaza, waiting for an unsuspecting being to sit at the bench with their tray of take-away chips. The chatter of pedestrians were louder and more jarring than she remembered, and she felt every breeze glide across her skin like an indecent brush from a stranger's hand.

 _'Maybe I should've waited for Hisako to finish with the Autumn Elections'._

Erina shook her head. _No!_ If other girls her age were capable of going shopping by themselves, then so could she! No more were the days of ex-special forces men glued to her side as they watched her every movement with stone cold eyes behind dark shades. Her bodyguards were once something she flaunted as a child wherever she went, be it social gatherings or taste testing meetings. Now they were mainly nuisances as she felt they impeded on her activities more than she thought appropriate. At some point in her teens, they grew low-key opinionated and judgmental of her actions and desires, and she had no choice but to get rid of them against _Ojii-sama's_ behest. They never actually voiced anything beyond what was within professional bounds but she didn't care.

Seeing them in those immaculate black suits and grim faces around her, or even knowing they observed from the shadows made her sick.

Erina pulled her cardigan closer to her body. Going into town on her own was a different kettle of fish. She had always gone with Hisako and they both made a day of it. The first time they went out together was like a string had snapped off her wrist and ankles. All of a sudden, the stories and characters in her _shoujou manga_ weren't so far away and fantastical anymore. She and Hisako would go out to try some clothes _together_ , have brunch at top-rated cafes _together_ , book a whole cinema to watch a romance movie _together_ , shop at accessory stores _together_ , browse for some _shoujou_ manga _together_ and the list when on.

For one day a month, she was living her own soft _shoujou_ story and it was exhilarating. It _had_ to become her routine.

Being away from _Tootsuki_ meant that they could talk about anything they wanted out of other student's and lecturers earshot. They could gripe and complain about things unabashedly, share their excitement and rave on and on about another thing without measure. It wasn't until the first few visits to town without the pedantic surveillance or need to filter and choose words carefully on school campus to exemplify the Nakiri way, that Erina felt truly alive.

Erina checked her phone for the fifth time.

' _It's nine o'clock. There's plenty of time. I don't have to rush'._

She strengthened her resolved and headed into _Seirin_ _Shoutengai._

Once she figured out what all the fuss was, the desire for more grew. However right now, her trusty aide was training non-stop for the _Autumn Elections_ like many other students in _Tootsuki._ It was just around the corner. It couldn't be helped… Erina brushed her locks from her eyes and tucked a few strands into her knitted cap and soldiered on down the street. She concentrated on walking down the pavement towards the plaza where the fountain was. Her legs and arms were stiff as she held her rose-gold leather crossbody bag as close to her body as possible, being careful to weave through the bodies clad in light jackets and not let anyone touch her.

Without Hisako or her bodyguards by her side, she felt like ice.

' _But I really want this…'._

Erina shook her head again.

' _No! I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary! It's just one day by myself and it's nothing special. There's no need to get worked up'._

First thing's first. She wanted to check out the clothing boutique. The clothes shops in _Seirinchou_ weren't all that great, devastatingly sub-par in quality to the likes of stores in _Paris_ and _Milan_ where her family would usually spend the summer. She didn't remember buying much from these stores, but the pure joy on Hisako's face when she agreed to try something on was enough for her to spend a bit of time there. Erina admitted that the designs were cute enough to just deign a quick look through and a gander, so stopping by clothes stores was usually on the itinerary.

Erina stepped into the first store and the bell tinkled above her. She looked around and saw there were a few female customers taking languid looks at shirts, jackets, dresses, skirts and pants. Some looked her way as upon her entrance, eyeing her curiously before drawing back to their own affairs. Great. They all knew she was by her lonesome. Later, they would talk about the lonely girl being seen in public without her friend.

She ignored them.

Erina gripped the straps of her bag and walked further in. The store seemed huge and cluttered without Hisako. The something fluffy and navy blue caught her eye making her saunter towards it. Erina reached out and stroked the fabric with smooth fingers. It was a knitted sweater with embroidered birds on the front. This looked like something Tadokoro would wear… Full of purposeless fluff… Erina dropped the sleeve and moved along to a dress worn by an anorexic mannequin. It was a simple dress which was also navy blue and had gold buttons sewn along the front. It was a semi-sheer fabric and Erina concluded that a girl must wear something beneath it or risk showing the word everything under it. She caressed the dress and felt the soft and silky fabric slip through her fingers. This was something Alice would wear.

Erina gulped.

Each female in the shop had a female counterpart gushing over how adorable, or beautiful their chosen article of the clothing was, quiet loudly she noted. Their asinine chatter grated on her nerves and Erina felt her skin crawl up her arm. She tried to concentrate on the mannequin again and found herself imagining that it was her cousin wearing the dress.

' _Alice would have a field day if she found out that I went shopping on my own'._

For some reason that thought angered her beyond reason. Erina stomped off towards the jackets section and just sifted through them without looking properly. She could visualise the irksome Alice rolling her shoulders back and tossing her silvery hair whilst jeering at her coveted secret, in that navy dress no less! Alice was just careless in nature. She was flamboyant, showy and loud. She always wanted to have fun and constantly blabbed about the latest trends. She barely had any Nakiri decorum and was also impossibly petulant about trivial things for one minute and then totally savage the next. She really pitied Kurokiba-kun. The only thing redeemable about Alice, in Erina's opinion was that she was an unparalleled chef in her field and not entirely vacuous. This was silly! She didn't come here to think about Alice or to be watched and judged by other women and girls who could see that she was alone! Erina quickly huffed out of the boutique. This was supposed to be a relaxing day to get her mind off of the _Autumn Elections_ because _Kami-sama_ knew that she spent painstaking time with Eizan- _senpai_ and Isshiki- _senpai_ to iron out the kinks. Her soured mood meant she needed to find another distraction and she was eager to drown in it.

The only person she backed to be part of the _Autumn Elections_ was Hisako. Everybody else wasn't worth her time. Isshiki- _senpai_ on the other hand backed a bunch of students and most of them were from his dorm. He was too bias. Erina tread along the familiar route through the _shoutengai._ The Autumn breeze tousled her long hair and pinked her cheeks. She pulled at her cardigan again. The warmth that had been in the wind just last week had either evaporated into the sky or had leached into the earth.

' _Maybe I'll have a coffee… no, no. It looks awkward if I am the only one at a table. People will think I'm waiting for someone_. _No… if I finish and leave, I'll look like I got stood up by a friend…'._

Her decision agonised her to no end, so the next best thing was to visit the accessory store and get something for Hisako. The poor dear worked so hard to please her and Erina deemed a reward for her efforts was in order. Just as Erina was about to round the corner into one of the quadrants of the _shoutengai_ plaza which held a plethora of high-end stores, a streak of navy blue and black zipped from her periphery. Her thoughts stilled. In the next second, it was like gravity pulled her head. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see a crop of raven hair disappearing through the crowd across the street.

' _Was that…?'._

With all thoughts abandoned, Erina twirled on her heels and back-tracked. She crossed the street just as the pedestrian crossing lit up in green. She forwent her rule for keeping her arms tight to herself and started to blurt out half apologies as she sliced her arms between people to make way. She could feel her knitted cap starting to slip off and forced it back on her head. Her boots picked up the pace, not wanting to be left behind. The burning need to confirm that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her became overwhelming and it urged her to cut through the crowd faster. Her breath left her lips in small huffs as she had never strained herself this much whilst shopping. Erina managed to catch up in time to escape the mass and she leaned against the nearest lamp post, just shy a couple of metres from her target. Her breath finally evened out but her heart continued to thump when the figure lifted up two long arms and pulled a set of expensive navy-blue headphones over the neck and onto the ears.

Erina's violet eyes lit up.

' _Mitsunaga!'._

She knew it wasn't a mistake! It was really him! Even though his back was to her, she would recognise that crooked and out-of-place whorl on his mess of raven locks. The answer to her chase stuffed his hands back into his jean pockets and kept strolling down the pavement to some unknown destination. The Nakiri heiress pushed off the lamp-post and adamantly matched her steps with his. His black jacket really stood out from the gold and browns, the preferred colour palate for autumnal clothing for the regular people of _Tokyo_.

' _Where is he going?'._

Wait.

Erina blinked owlishly and realisation pinched her spine. She was going to follow him?! Absolutely not! Erina skidded to a halt. She swiveled her head away to avert her gaze, but the sudden heat of her cheeks tormented her with the undeniable proof of her embarrassing intentions. What was she thinking?! She shouldn't care about Mitsunaga's business as much as he shouldn't care about hers if the scenario was reversed. Plenty of students visited the town on their days-off and Mitsunaga wasn't any different. However, Isshiki- _senpai_ mentioned that he also backed _The Guild's_ participation for the _Autumn Elections,_ so shouldn't he be at school training like the rest of them? Perhaps he was going for an ingredients run. Nonsense! _Tootsuki_ provided all resources for students so really he had no business being in town! Not that it was any of _her_ business… Urgh! She couldn't stand this aggravating predicament she landed herself in. The twists and turns in her reasoning was driving her mental.

She gnawed on her lip, turning them soft and swollen between her teeth in the process.

She wished she'd never spotted him in the first place. What a truly idiotic move. But the more she thought about his mysterious agenda in the same place and time as her, the more she wanted to put the curiosity out of its misery so the only thing she could think of to achieve that was to find out why he was in _Seirinchou_. BUT IT WASN'T HER BUSINESS! The chaos in the Nakiri Heiresses psyche was exhausting and it did little to assuage her persistently aching compulsion to figure out Mitsunaga… Seconds ticked by and it was those seconds that meant the ex-classical musician was getting further and further away. Erina looked up again and just like that, the mess of black-hair and ridiculous headphones disappeared.

' _Damn'._

Her body caved in. What a waste of time… Erina shivered all over. She was by herself in a busy shopping district with nothing but her phone and bag in a town she _barely_ knew yet lived so close to. No Hisako, no body guards. _Nothing._

Just one sight of familiarity was enough to make her heart burn with a tireless need which she didn't comprehend.

' _This is ridiculous'._

She fixed the dress beneath her cardigan and pushed through, adamant not to let that wandering student get away. Erina puffed her cheeks to brace against the stronger winds as it whipped her hair all over the place and no distractions were allowed. She took off her knitted cap and tied her gorgeously long hair into a bun and stuffed her cap back over it. There. Erina peeked into all the shop fronts to as she combed this part of _Seirin Shoutengai_ to see if the elusive boy was in any of them and concluded it would be highly unlikely as most were stores for girls. Erina kept going until she stopped in front of a music shop.

' _The music store._ _This has to be it'._

Erina was amazed with the sheer size! The shop window was wall to ceiling and spanned a whole Nakiri manor corridor. Grand pianos of different sizes and shades stood proudly in display. The soft lights from inside the store shone on them as if they were priceless art pieces. Further inside were rows of other music paraphernalia, guitars of all types hung high up on the walls and there several drum kits in their own sections. Towering rows of thin books lined the store on the opposite wall. Erina couldn't see everything, but she was sure there were a lot more inside.

She continued to search for her quarry and as expected, found him chatting animatedly with one of the shop attendants. This was the first in a long time she saw his face, even though it was in profile and it made her insides lurch just like the first time. There was something different… was his back ever this straight? She didn't know, she had only ever seen him napping on the ground, over desks, or over the back of chairs in class, and of course when he was cooking… but there was that time he played the piano with an exemplary posture… The minuscule details suddenly emerged and she found it disconcerting how she remembered his habits and body enough to draw comparisons. Like how he leaned to the left side as he shifted most of his weight there, how long his fingers were long and nimble when he snapped his finger just now as if he had a brilliant idea, and how big his smile became when he talked.

Erina pressed her side against the edge of the shop window. She honestly thought he only knew how to look bored and sleepy. Seeing him smile was certainly different. She was then instantly captured by the dark blue of his eyes caught in the shop's light when he pivoted his head in her direction slightly. They crinkled at the side when he smiled and his bountiful lashes fanned against his pale skin when he blinked, making his iris glint like sapphires on an antique ring. Her stomach did an annoying flip again. He lifted his arms up, as if estimating the length of an object and his black jacket fell away from his himself, revealing a tight grey t-shirt and his headphone wires snaking across his form, hugging close to his lean and trim body.

Erina licked her dry lips.

Suddenly, she dived out of sight. That was too close! Mitsunaga had turned fully in her direction, following the shop attendant, and Erina instantly felt a shot of pure fear and adrenaline kicking her into action. Regret dumped itself on her shoulders like a yoke on an ox and her curiosity was the mouse that finally got the cheese, but shame took its place and she could see no way to make it go away. Erina looked around and found herself just in front of the bookstore. She hurriedly entered and busied herself with the _shoujou manga_ section. Self-preservation reached an all-time high.

' _What if he'd seen me? No no, impossible there are too many people walking past. He can't just single me out that quickly…'._

Erina was barely reading the _manga_ she had in her hand as she flipped through the pages, finding no comfort in the beautiful drawings but stereotypical _shoujou_ style characters. Her thoughts were too pre-occupied. Her scalp grew tight from her bun and she took off her knitted cap. She released her hair tie and felt the relieving sensation of her long and thick hair tumbling down her shoulders in heavy and securing waves. She stuffed her cap into her bag and flicked the shorter strands of her hair over her shoulders.

"Hey girl. Lookin' pretty there".

Her eyes snapped open. Erina spun around and was instantly boxed in by two large boys.

' _Huh?! When did they—'._

"Damn look at those tits!"

Unadulterated nausea mixed with disgust and acrimony exploded through her chest. How dare they! A young maiden such as herself should _not_ be spoken to that way! Who did they think they were?! Her feet were stuck firmly to the ground and she backed into the shelves. Her mouth quivered with numbing fury and indignation at the audacity of the despicable male specimens targeting her. Her hands grew sweaty and the adrenaline coursing through her system was shutting down her ability to think logically. She wanted to run or beat the living daylights out of those two mongrels!

But her body was paralysed by something greater than anger.

 _Fear._

"Baby, you'd be prettier if you smile".

"D-Don't call me th-that".

Adrenaline continued to flood Erina's body as she held her bag in front of her. She wasn't prepared for this, not at all. She had to get away at all costs! The first body blocking her exit was a stringy man, thin and gangly with bones jutting out of his joints, like a skeleton. He wore baggy, dirty clothes that hung from his body like drapes. The second was thicker and larger. All the muscles on his face tightened as he leered at her from bottomless black eyes. He reached his head down to her and she craned her head away, gagging on the smoke and alcohol that stained his breath. She thought her heart would explode and her eyes were wide, committing every grotesque feature on their sly faces to memory.

"What did you say sugar? I couldn't hear".

"L-Leave me alone".

Her voice came out in an embarrassing croak as she slipped away from his caging form. She tried to push past the skinny one towards the entrance of the shop.

"Hang on a minute doll, we just wanna talk to you".

His tone grew patronising and it sickened her further. Panic seized her just as tightly as the large and callous caught her wrist as in a vice. She was almost out the door! Full blown horror took over her body like a malicious poltergeist.

"Hey! Let go of me! Ahh _—_!".

She wrenched her arm with all her might, but the beast wouldn't release her. Instead he drew her to him like a vacuum and Erina opened her mouth to scream bloody murder but was cut short.

 _"Oi"._

A firm hand suddenly gripped her shoulder and she was instantly pulled backwards. The grubby hand finally slipped off and she was forcefully whirled around like in a turn style until her face was smothered by something warm and hard. The same arm that removed her from those two revolting men hung straight in the air and out to the side like a physical barrier between her and the perpetrators. Erina planted her feet and her sudden intake of air was filled with a familiar citrus scent instantly let her know _exactly_ who separated her from her harrassers.

"Mitsunaga-kun!".

She caught mouthful of his hair as she yelled. His body stood rigid in front of her, fully cutting her view of those horrid men. He didn't even turn around to acknowledge her. They stalked towards him like hyenas and only Erina pedaled back, hanging onto Mitsunaga's jacket because her body literally didn't know what else to grab for support, but he didn't move an inch and stood toe-to-toe with those men like a mountain.

"It's got nothing to do with you kid, get lost".

"No".

His solitary and blunt response seemed to render the men dumbfounded before their thick brows dived into dangerous scowls. Erina gulped, knowing this was only going to get worse.

"Oh yeah? Looks like you're gonna get a beating!".

"Not if I make the first move! _HADOKEN!"._

The scream that Erina had been building up to finally ripped from her throat! Mitsunaga sprang forward and slammed his fist into the man's jaw. He stumbled backwards into his friend and that was when Mitsunaga made his second move.

" _Run!"._

Erina remained frozen and it wasn't until her other wrist was grabbed and yanked that she burst into action. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her! She knocked into passersby, their shoulders and elbows bruising her body as she flew past, right behind Mitsunaga, towing her. She held onto her cross-body bag with her other hand and managed to look behind her for one fleeting moment. A swollen and bloody face rampaged through the crowd like a bull seeing red painted on their backs and her panic escalated. The absolute rage on his ugly face was indescribable! Erina was suddenly forced down by a hand pushing against her head and her spine buckled and her knees knocked together harshly.

"In here!".

Mitsunaga shot out his hand and slammed it into an emerald green door in front of them. It flew open and Mitsunaga's body pasted itself onto her back as he shoved her inside. The sudden heat and smell of coffee invaded her nose like a persuasive speech. She didn't even have time to catch up with what the hell just happened before she was pushed forward to keep moving and her boots almost tripped over each other. Erina spotted a secluded booth and was suddenly ushered into the inner most seat and Mitsunaga crashed beside her. A menu was thrown her way and it slapped her in the face!

"Hold it up to so they don't see you—!".

Erina didn't have a choice and followed his orders and held the menu right against her nose. She shut her eyes and heaved, begging her heart not to go into cardiac arrest! Her arms and legs shook, and her whole body shuddered against her control. A sweaty hand slid across the table and held her forearm in a strong but gentle grip and her shaking significantly lessened. Rustling movement from beside caught her attention and suddenly Mitsunaga shifted his whole body to her, blocking her own from other's view completely. He huddled her into the corner of the booth, his body was an impenetrable stone wall. Her thighs squeeze together in the small space and her knees accidentally brushed against his leg as she fought to keep still. The heady fragrance of his sweat and his citrusy deodorant dominated her senses and she couldn't help but take great big gulps of it to fill her burning lungs. She was running on pure instinct for self-preservation now. The Nakiri Heiress was so close to a terrible outcome, that her mind instantly shut down; too exhausted to keep going. Her body tugged inwards and pressed itself into Mitsunaga's protective embrace, throwing every single one of her propriety out the window in favour of safety and security.

"Shh. It's okay, I'm here".

His voice rumbled against her cheek. She felt his Adam's Apple bob and his heartbeat raced like a train like hers. The bare skin of his throat against her temple was searing hot like a kettle on full boil. The headphone cushions bulged against her ear, turned off and silent. He wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm through her cardigan. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of his body tight against hers. She sunk into the warmth of his side. His touch made the booth warmer somehow and her day less horrific.

 _BANG!_

She screamed again, but this time muffled it against his t-shirt when she heard the loud crash of the door being thrown almost off its hinges. His hand instantly shot up to cup the back of her head, holding her face to his chest. They found them!

 _"Hey! We have a dress code in this coffee shop. Vacate to somewhere more suitable to ya style, like a medical clinic or somethin'. I hear bloody noses are all the rage there"._

" _We're looking for a guy and girl that ran in this direction. Did they come by your way?"._

" _I ain't seen nothin'. Get lost before I spray hospital-grade antiseptic on ya"._

Erina's hyperaware hearing picked up some grumbling and a _'Let's get outta here'_ before the slam of a door made her jump again. Finally all she could hear were whispers of the people around her and the lulling nonsensical rhythm of jazz music. Erina opened her eyes but her body was still tensed up, feeling the danger wasn't completely over. Mitsunaga slowly peeled himself away from her and a rush of coffee-laden air encased her. She planted her hand across her chest. Her heart was too erratic.

"Are you okay?", the low timbre of Mitsunaga's voice sobered her up a bit more.

"I-I just need some air".

Mitsunaga took a long moment, no budging, before he slid out of the seat and stepped away, moving to opposite the table in their booth like a tiger still on edge. Erina dropped the menu and caught her face in her hands. Her head was in a haze and she couldn't calm down even when those two scoundrel were gone. It could've been so easy for them! _Would've!_ And if it wasn't for Mitsunaga…

Erina peeked between her fingers to see the gamer-chef's equally tired face. He leaned back into his seat with one arm lying on the table. He stared out the window with furrowed brows and eyes glazed over in condemnation. Erina took a few gulps of breath and finally rested into her seat. A glass of water slid right in front of her.

"Mitsunaga, I dunno which team you, Ginsekai, Yuujou 'n' Ishikagaku fucked over on _Starcraft,_ but ya can't be bringin' that kinda shit to my parent's coffee shop, ya hear me? What happens in-game, stays in-game".

The rough accent sliced through her foggy mind and instantly brought her to the present. A young teen about their age stood at their table with his hand crossed over his chest, his sharp gem-like eyes glaring at Mitsunaga who was already gulping down his water like a dehydrated horse. Erina fingered her glass, but couldn't bring the rim to her lips, less she threw up from the whole ordeal.

"It's not that… those thugs… were harassing… _her_ ".

Mitsunaga nodded his head at Erina. He was still huffing and puffing and his face was all red. His dark fringe was raked up through his hair, his perspiration sticking the strands together. It revealed his finely shaped eyebrows which shaped his eyes beautifully. Shock cascaded over her at the revelation that Mitsunaga must have been just as frightened as she was! But he seemed so brave a few minutes ago… Erina felt laser eyes suddenly land on her and she stiffened up. She glanced over to whom she presumed to be the son of the café owners and she was astounded by the youthfulness of his face. He had extremely fair hair which spiked towards the back, and he had a jagged fringe which fell over one of his eyes. He wore an apron over his black button up shirt and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. He carried a chilled water jug with him. Erina felt he was analysing her for a few seconds before he turned away.

"Alright then. Stay put for a while. I don't think those two will be too far away. Just sit 'n' relax. If ya wanna order anythin' just give me a holler".

"…Yeah".

"Th-Thank you".

The waiter nodded at them and walked away.

"Are you oka—".

"I don't want to talk about it".

"But—".

"No".

"How—".

"No talking".

Erina crossed her arms and grimaced at the table. She cradled her cross-body bag on her lap. She wanted to put that whole affair in the sausage grinder and leave it for the dessert vultures to feast on. Her emotions were a mixed bag of Yukihira-kun's off-cuts and it was impossible for her to verbalise anything about that disaster ten minutes ago. Mitsunaga sighed fell silent. He bent his body forward and crossed his arms on the table and started fiddling with the unlit candle on the table. If he leaned over anymore, the crown of their heads would be touching. Erina wanted nothing more than to go home, but she couldn't bring herself to pick up her phone and dial Kenta-san's number. Her stomach felt too nauseous and she was afraid that if she stepped outside the coffee-shop, she would crumble to her knees and throw up. Sitting with Mitsunaga was just fine.

"So…".

Erina sighed and looked at him.

Mitsunaga gulped and then continued. "Are going to be in the _Autumn Elections_?".

"What?".

Erina tilted her head up to face Mitsunaga. He was back to being neutral. There was a touch of pink still left on his cheeks. He looked at her unabashedly, as if nothing at the bookstore just happened and they were two people hanging out at a café. The only thing she could tell from him that he wasn't letting it go was the tense clench of his jaw and the last whispers of turmoil swirling in his eyes. Scalding molten cobalt branded her and he wouldn't let up. It sent shivers of a different kind up her arms, which journeyed to her heart causing uncomfortable twinges. She couldn't breathe whenever he looked at her like that!

"No. Why?".

"Just thought you might", he replied.

The conversation died faster than an expelled Tootsuki student's dream.

" _You_ are, though", whispered Erina, a few moments later.

"Yeah, my _senpai_ announced it last week". Mitsunaga smirked.

Erina fidgeted in her seat and turned away again. The boy in front of her was all forms of awkward and unsightly in his hobbies, but she was at peace with him right now. In fact, her vexation for him only existed in her mind, when he wasn't within sight and the rumours whispering around the _Tootsuki_ corriders had twisted some unsavoury images in her mind. He was a plague in her thoughts, thinking about him when she shouldn't which in turn made her more irate. It was everything about him that grated on her! He was too much of riddle. She could handle Yukihira-kun because there was nothing complicated about a diner chef studying at _Tootsuki_. The Aldini brothers were in the same boat with their _Trattoria_ and she got along fine with them when they pass each other in class. Yukihira-kun was weird and a pest too, a trouble maker trying to shake up the gourmet cooking world. But he didn't force her put her guard up the same way Mitsunaga did.

Yukhira Souma was transparent and easy to read.

Mitsunaga Yozora was _not._

How could an ex-classical musician become a _Tootsuki_ level chef and be obsessed with video-games like some public school commoner? The formula there was all wrong! There was _never_ going to be a place for him and he knew that, yet he kept marching to the beat of his own drum with his rag-tag RS as if the whole world could go to hell. His ignorance was breath-taking… the real world was unfeeling and harsh… _merciless._ However, when he was actually in her presence… she didn't feel an ounce of that contempt. She thought she had, but when she dug for it, she usually came up with nothing but strange and overcompensating shyness. It was more like cool water washing over her, dousing every flame of frustration and she was splashing around in a shallow puddle, scared that she'd drown. It was like her thoughts cramped up and she didn't know what to really think. His actions, countenance, manner of speech was the polar opposite of what the rumours say. When his headphones were secure over his ears, she knew that's when the whole world ceased to exist for him. He would stare off into space with no concern for expectation, grades, competition, social conventions and the like.

Just him and his music.

There was a certain grace to that.

It was worth her envy.

Before she knew it, the animosity evaporated as soon as she got a view of his face and how serene he always seemed nodding to video-game music blasting in his ears. All what was usually left in her was a pathetic steaming pile of grumbles in her gut. How odd…

"Shouldn't you be back in school practicing?", she asked.

"I will later. I went to order a birthday present for my friend".

"Birthday present?". Erina uncrossed her arm and faced Mitsunaga properly.

"It's for Hayato-kun. I'm getting him a new flute case. His current one is falling apart. It's too old", he chuckled.

"Hayato… as in Ginsekai Hayato…".

Erina frowned. That name was familiar. Wasn't he part of _The Guild_ too? Now she remembered. It was that other name along with Mitsunaga Yozora, which Isshiki-senpai backed to participate in the _Autumn Elections._ He was another _gaming-otaku_ weirdo who was always talking like he was part of a video-game. It was absurd. He was always listening to video game music, the same as Mitsunaga only he was more loud and rambunctious about it. _He_ made Mitsunaga more palatable to her in comparison.

"Yep". Mitsunaga leaned forward and his smirked grew wider.

"What would he want with a flute case?".

"…"

"…"

"… Um… he plays the flute?".

Mitsunaga had an extra facial expression as part of his repertoire now. Firstly, he could look bored. Secondly, he could look sleepy. Thirdly, he could look happy… and now he could look like he thought she was stupid.

"No! I mean… wait, what?!".

Mitsunaga barked in laughter. It was blunt and loud, attracting the attention of other café patrons. Erina could feel her animosity return with a vengeance. She took back what she thought! He was a twenty-four hour pain in the arse whether she saw him or not! First he dared to look at her as if she was the ignorant one and then he laughed in her face! His lips stretched zealously into a self-satisfying grin as if she was a children's puzzle he'd just solved and found her completely amusing.

"I dunno how to break it to you Nakiri, but _The Guild_ isn't what everyone makes us out to be. We aren't _just_ a bunch of _otaku gamers_ messing around, playing video-games, cooking random things to gaming music. We were all _classical musicians_ in the past _._ The only exception is that Hayato-kun never had the formal education. But he plays just as well as any other professional flutist".

"…".

"I play the piano, as you know. Hayato-kun plays the flute. Kasai- _senpai_ plays the violin and Tsurugi- _senpai_ plays the cello".

"…".

"What? You don't believe me?".

She raised her eyebrows, her doubtfulness were off the charts. But… but… their RS was based on _video-game music!_ Not classical music. They called themselves classical musicians? The irony in that was strong. Honestly, she had to say her pessimism had come to a point of even suspecting the sincerity of the ridiculous student. He was saying that all _four_ of them were classically trained musician before coming to _Tootsuki_ and they somehow crossed paths at the most prestigious and expensive cooking school of more than eight-hundred students at the right generation, time and place out of pure coincidence. There as only a handful of conservatoriums and music schools in Japan and they, with the exception of Ginsekai, must have come from one of them before for some reason ending up in _Tootsuki_ together. The likelihood was so close to zero, it might as well be. He must be taking her for a fool.

"Playing musical instruments doesn't _mean_ you are knowledgeable on true classics and the artistry…".

Erina grumbled and gave him the biggest side-eye she could muster. For all she knew, he might have dropped out of the profession because he sucked at it.

"So you want me to prove that we're _true_ classical musicians, huh".

Erina quirked her brow.

"Fine. _Youtube_ a bunch of classical compositions right now, I'll listen to the first five seconds of it and I'll tell you the name of the piece and the composer. You can choose any".

Ha! He must be bluffing! Erina scoffed and shook her head. She leered at him from down her nose but she was taken aback at how relaxed he still was. His head was tilted up as _he_ was the one looking down on her! _That ingrate!_ He thought he was such a classical music hotshot did he? He thought he could listen to a few bars of _any_ of the thousands of classical pieces in the world and he could tell her point-blank what it was? If he was this confident, then fine. She'd test him out, watch him fail and rub it all over his sculpted face. There was bound to be a classical piece he'd never heard of and that would wipe the smirk off his. He wasn't going to throw his own brand of elitism at her because as far as _Tootsuki_ and the Nakiri clan were concerned, the culinary art was the _only_ measure of true breeding.

"Well, since you are so confident in yourself. I'll play along".

Erina smirked at him and flicked her head. Mitsunaga settled back into his seat and lifted his lashes at her. His crystalline blue eyes bored deep holes into her and the unsettling creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach started to emerge. His eyes held her steadfast and Erina quickly pulled out her smart phone and started searching for a classical piece with the most obscure and foreign name. Being part of the social elites meant that Erina had her fair share of attending opera's, plays, concerts show-casing Japan's finest chamber music, orchestras, and listened to entire symphonies from the tender age of eight. There wasn't any point in choosing the main ones like _Moonlight Sonata, Fur Elise,_ he would definitely know it. She was going to take her time and look for something that would shut him up.

"Here's the first one", announced Erina. _Five seconds._

"Arnold Schonberg. Verklarte Nacht".

"Next!". _Three_ _seconds_

"Claude Debussy. En Blanc et Noir".

"Take this!". _Two_ _seconds._

"Shostakovich's fifteenth".

"Grrrr…". _Three seconds._

"Piano Quartet number one in G-minor by Mozart".

"How about this?!". _Four seconds._

"Adagio for piano in B-minor. Mozart too. You wanna keep going?".

Erina harrumphed. She shoved her phone in her bag and blocked out the sniggering that came from his direction. Okay, so he knew the exact piece for the first few seconds. He rattled the names and composers off like breathing air. So what! Now that she thought about it, it was similar how she could tell the whole cooking process of a dish based on one taste. Perhaps there really was something extraordinary behind Mitsunaga Yozora, even if it was just music and his childish love for video-games. She didn't forget the mystery around it though. How he went from being a classical musician into an _ex-_ one.

"That doesn't prove anything!", she growled.

"If you say so".

"The rest of _The Guild_ … did they…". She chose her words carefully. " _Leave_ their profession the same way you did?".

"You still don't have the pre-requisite for that _quest_ ".

Why did she even bother.

Erina exhaled deeply and leaned back to observe her surroundings. So they were in a coffee shop huh. Nerve-wracking at her ordeal was, how did she not notice that the interior was the colour of fresh chocolates? It had that shiny look and slow jazz poured out of the speakers installed in the cornices of the ceiling, smooth and comforting making her worries melt. It was a tiny shop compared to the more commercial ones, seating only a few people at a time. Erina looked around and noticed that their booth was tucked in the innermost corner, which was quite cosy. This coffee-shop was family owned, therefore an independent business and so their decorating consisted with lots of odd but tasteful retro and vintage knick-knacks artistically arrange in the coffee-shop to give the patrons the feeling that they've stepped into a different time era. It was small and ubiquitous from the front and it huddled among the other shop buildings in an alleyway, tucked away in its own little niche. The interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls of every shade of brown ranging from terracotta to burnt umbra. It was vintage. Classical western to be exact. Erina deduced that it was built in the _Taishou Jidai_ and then was renovated. It really gave an old-fashioned _timeless_ atmosphere.

"Huh. This song uses the same instruments as _**Track Eleven**_ ".

' _I'm not going to dignify that with a response'._

It was too bad for Erina, now that she was hyperaware of the song since he pointed it out. It was light and melodic. First it was jazz and it then it gave way to a song that was of a completely different style. It was refreshing and gentle, soothing like bubble bath after a full day of hiking or driving through the country-side. The acoustic guitar almost sounded like a harp with its gentle plucking of high notes. The soft piano weaving into the repetitive sequence of notes carried her off to a far off place. It was a simple tune and the two instruments were harmonious.

There was a bar opposite the front door made of heavy dark wood with a couple of wooden stools situated there for the patron who wanted to have something to get off their chest to the barista. Along the wall was a bookshelf lined with books of Western titles, a whole shelful of records and an antique gramophone, spinning a chose black record lazily. Next to it was a cute little terrarium, over flowing with a fern which cascaded out of the bowl's rim and almost touching the wood panel flooring. Old fashioned window shutters of dark beige lined the walls, giving a comforting terrace feel. She looked up and saw in wrought steel, the signboard with the coffee shop's name.

 _Hyouheki Kissaten_

The rich and vibrant aroma of freshly ground coffee beans tickled her nose pleasant and she drew a deep breath, the air was delicious as the flavour. elan beans. Arabica and robusta. This place must serve decent coffee then. This was the kind of place she and Hisako could sit for hours and feel no time passing. The air so infused and perfumed without chemicals. Even her sophisticated palate approved of the quaint coffee-shop. The sound of coffee brewing and even hearing the conversation between the barista and customer faintly was a comfort.

' _So that waiter was actually the barista'._

She watched his hands skilfully poured the right amount of everything into the coffee-cup. Wisps of hazy white rose from the hot brown liquid. The customer at the bar took the warm cup into his hands, his tense muscles relaxing as he sipped slowly at his fresh cup of coffee. The smell she could tell was a special blend. It stimulated every single nerve in her nostrils. The man drank it slowly and smiled. Erina's tongue whirled around in her mouth, mimicking the customer tasting the exact brew in her mouth.

"Hey Nakiri? I have to take this outside, do you mind?".

"Huh? What?".

Erina returned her attention to their booth. Mitsunaga was half-way out of his seat and surge of panic took her. What's happening? Where was he going? She pressed her hand on the table, ready to leap out too. He held his phone up almost to his ears, indicated that he was receiving an incoming call. He looked over her worriedly and Erina deflated and fell back onto her seat, feeling incredibly silly at reacting so dramatically for nothing. It was probably an important and private call that needed to be answered outside of her presence.

"My… uh… father is calling me…".

She huffed and waved her hand to dismiss him.

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be back really soon. I promise".

Erina's checks glowed bright red and she flounced in the opposite direction, not knowing what to do with herself!

"Just go already!".

Mitsunaga gulped and hesitated for a second before he hit the accept button before it went to voicemail. He stepped outside and the cool breeze rushed in and with the close of the door, the warmth returned. As if she was going to go anywhere in her state! What a ridiculous request. She felt her cheeks, hating how hot and bothered she felt. She ruffled her hair, hoping that the embarrassment and needless shyness would seep out of her pores and just be gone. There was such an earnest in his tone that she couldn't get over. He was not good for her. Yep, that's right. Everything he did around her lit her up like a roaring furnace and she couldn't stand the heat. She didn't know what to do. Her composure was always thrown out the door. He sounded really worried about her.

' _When he says 'I promise' like that…'._

It made her really want to stay… just for him.

A small cup of coffee slid in front of her and another was placed opposite her where Mitsunaga was sitting.

"It's on the house. Sorry if it ain't much for a romantic date that turned shitty".

"W-We're not together!".

What was wrong with her God's Tongue! Why wasn't it articulating anything properly?! The barista blew at his fringe and gave her an odd look and she was infuriated at the doubt swirling in his eyes. Offended didn't cover what she was feeling now. As if she would be on a date with the likes of him! What was the barista trying to insinuate! Her Nakiri breeding wouldn't allow herself to associate with such an unbecoming human being any more than acquaintance.

"Oh really? It seemed that way. Mitsunaga never brings a girl 'ere. It's always 'im 'n' one of the other _Guild_ buddies".

"You're mistaken. He's not my b-boyfriend. We attend the same school. He rescued me from those scoundrels you turned away who were harassing me at a bookstore. It was just a coincidence that we were both there at the same time. _End of story_ ".

"Hmm, I don't think the author's quite finished yet".

"Wh-what do you mean by that?".

The barista made himself at home opposite her and offered a roguish grin. He crossed his tanned arms and rested them on the table, his forearms were just shy of touching the cup of steaming coffee meant for Mitsunaga. The way he peered at her made her breath hitch and the hairs on her arms stand on end. It was like he _knew_ something, or knew _more_ and wasn't planning to be straightforward about it.

"In life, every endin' is just the start of another story-arc".

"Your point?".

"I think your plotline 'n' Mitsunaga's plotline are intertwinin' for somethin' real interestin'".

 _"Wrong._ There is nothing between Mitsunaga and I", murmured Erina through gritted teeth, already done with his confusing metaphor.

"Look, I've known Mitsunaga for two years runnin'. I've never seen him give a crap 'bout anyone other than his best friend, Ginsekai. One time I thought they were gay, but nope, turns out they're just best friends who've been through a helluva lot together. But there's a spark between the two of ya, that's different. Just now, he didn't actually wanna leave ya by ya-self even though ya perfectly safe in my parent's coffee-shop. If ya just some classmate, he woulda ordered somethin' to comfort ya 'n', called a taxi to take ya home, 'n' just be on his way. But he's still here, tryin' to end the phone conversation quickly so he could hurry back to ya".

Erina spun around and stared out the window. Mitsunaga was standing by the door of the coffee-shop shooting his eyes back and forth down the alley way with one hand shoved into his pockets. His mouth was running as if he was totally exasperated by the person on the other end, and trying to say his final piece before he hung up. However by some almighty power he was still strung onto the phone, almost arguing and couldn't stop. She'd never seen him look that bothered since she injured his head. A few times, he was about to reach for the door with his elbow to go inside, but it would fall away and he would slump on the brick wall of the coffee-shop before resuming his heated phone conversation. He… wanted to get back to her?

' _Why would he?'._

"Your observations are purely circumstantial. You're just making far-fetched deductions about us and Mitsunaga's behaviour doesn't mean anything. He would probably do this for any girl in my situtation".

She turned back and left her cup of coffee untouched no matter how mouth-watering it smelled, not quite trusting the skilled barista and his agenda.

"Meh". He shrugged.

"What makes you such an expert in unravelling people's life?" Erina countered. His smug face was almost as irritating as Mitsunaga's, only his made her want to punch it.

A rueful and enigmatic smile graced his lips and made his features soften.

"Me? Been 'round. Seen a lot". He jabbed his thumb at himself. His ego was palatable. "Also bein' a barista in a quiet coffee-shop means I get to hear people's burdens so I know a thing or two 'bout what goes on in their private life. My customers spend a lot of time here to escape their own hellhole 'n' just want someone to lend an ear. Even if some don't voice anythin', I can always tell. It's in their manners, their actions, their little habitual ticks. Even what kinda coffee they order. They let on more than they know".

The barista rested his head on his folded arms and peered up at her slyly.

' _Urgh… disgusting'._

"Like right now, ya think I'm shady and a busy-body".

Erina bristled and covered up her surprise by coughing into her fist. "Being nosy is no way to establish rapport, you know… What would your g-girlfriend think of your behaviour?", declared Erina.

"Ha! Plot twist. I ain't got a girl. Thank's for thinkin' that, though. I ain't got anyone I fancy at the moment, nor anyone who likes me for that matter. Maybe it's 'cause I'm too _nosy_ ". He smirked.

"Don't give up. There might be someone as equally intrusive and meddlesome as you…". Erina drawled.

He merely grinned in return. She fingered her cup of coffee, which had significantly cooled to the point she could cup it in both her palms. The soothing warmth permeated through her skin and crept circulated the blood in her hand blissfully. It would be a waste not to drink it. So she'd do the barista a favour and sample it for the ruckus she and Mitsunaga had caused in entering his family's coffee-shop in such an undignified way. She might even critique it, free of charge.

The Nakiri Heiress crossed her long legs daintily under the table and raised the cup delicately to her lips. She took her first sip and everything went silent within her except for her tell-tale inner _souzu_ fountain chasing away the critters scurrying through her mind and clearing it for the taste. The strong brew washed over her tongue with its velvety richness. A sigh escaped her lips without warning and the lingering dance of sweetness, mild richness and sourness of the beans, which were heated to perfection, eased her frazzled thoughts. This blend was from Colombia. There was a hint of Brazilian beans in there for added fragrance. It was so subtle it amazed her with its wonderful and robust flavour which held its own against the primary beans. Wow. She'd never tasted this blend before. It was _really good!_ Her violet eyes shot up. What greeted her on the other side was a pair of clear gems, the astounding shade of the exquisite jade. It was sharp and cutting as it drilled deep into her soul, scraping back every layer by piece against her wishes... He had eyes that held knowledge far beyond a teenager… as if he knew something beyond their current world.

"I doubt it. I ain't interested in relationships, but maybe in some alternate universe with a completely different narrative, set of characters 'n' plot-line, I already got a girl who's perfect for me. Maybe not the way ya described, but who could put up with my nosiness, 'n' we're both head-over-heels in love".

"Life isn't a story", murmured Erina.

The tinkling of the bell broke her from his captivating gaze.

"Ah, ya beau's back". He raised from the seat and straightened his work apron. "I disagree. We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh? See ya 'round _**sweetheart** "._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

" _Kami-sama! What are you going to do!? Is your hand going to heal in time?!"._

Hayato-kun's loud wail bounced off the wall like a colony of rabbit over-running naïve tourists on the famous _Rabbit Island._ Yozora flexed his hand one more time, feeling the throbbing ache and tightness of the bandage Kasai-senpai had graciously bandaged for him.

"I do not take you for one to get into fist-fights", clipped Kasai- _senpai_.

He packed up _The Guild's_ medical kit and lifted himself up gracefully to put it away.

"It was worth it", said Yozora.

"Nothing is worth a _Nakiri!"._ Hayato-kun bellowed.

"If I didn't stop them, she would've been done for". Yozora sighed.

"But now your hand's all messed up. How are you supposed to cook in the _Autumn Elections_?".

Yozora thought he should win the Academy Award for best actor of the year because that punch hurt like a bitch and he managed to keep a straight face the whole time. He was so damn close to crying. He had hid his hand in his pockets as soon they made to the safety of _Hyouheki Kissaten._ The owners were an old client of _The Guild._ He was grateful for their son and trusted _NPC_ for helping them out of a serious pinch. Then the last thing he needed was Nakiri to find out about his bum hand and explode; lecturing him about what a dumb thing he did, even if it was for her sake. He wasn't going to lie, but when he heard the sickening crunch of his fists connecting with the oversized jaw of those buffoons, he thought he broke his knuckles. They cracked, but didn't actually break and he was thankful to _Kami-sama_ for that. Maybe years of popping his knuckles allowed them to take the brunt and yield without that much damage. The pain didn't rear its ugly head until way after when he was on the phone with _Otou-san._ By that time, the adrenaline had worn off, all sorts of pain marched from his knuckles to his wrist. He had stood out there in the cool trying to hold in the wince and not let his voice waver. His right hand had flared up and was swollen, some bruising had already formed. His knuckles managed to scrape against some of their crooked teeth and it was trickling with tiny drops of blood, which he had gingerly wiped on his jeans.

He was able to keep his hand out of sight until he was able to hitch a ride back to school with Nakiri in her limousine.

"I'll manage. I always do".

There was not a drop of regret in his body. When he stepped out of the music shop and placed his wallet back in his pockets, he saw the wall of ungainly flesh crowding something near the front of the book store. He had thought it was weird for delinquents to suddenly gain interests in _shoujou_ manga. I quick peek to see what was up was enough to see that Nakiri Erina was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

' _She never told me what she was doing in Seirin Shoutengai'._

Tsurugi-senpai could call him old fashioned, but seeing a girl like Nakiri who probably wasn't well-informed of how the working-class got on, traipsing around in town looking completely casual and unaware had set off some serious alarm bells in him. Bam! Some older guys had immediately hit on her like a dessert crepe. An innate power had consumed him and had made him stride into the store. He had wrenched those violent hands off of her as hard as he could. He had put himself between her and her assailants, making sure Nakiri couldn't be reached. The numbing fright and paralysing fear in her wide violent eyes sucked him in so hard and stuttered his breath, he could barely turned his attention back to those creeps. Fury raged within him to having witness such a despicable act against his classmate! He couldn't imagine what would've happened if he wasn't there.

Oh what a punch. The pianist and the chef in him were sitting in the corner, bemoaning that his life was completely over. An out-of-commission hand was potentially a career-death sentence for both sides of the coin.

But he would do it all again.

He could take the pain for Nakiri.

But that was just it! He shouldn't have to. Girls didn't get into bad situations randomly during the day or night. Men like those he had sucker-punched, always _made_ situations bad _for_ girls. He didn't blame Nakiri at all for what happened. He blamed the society for teaching young men like those two that it was excusable to make a pass at a girl no matter how uncomfortable and rude it was. Gaming and playing characters that were of the heroic kind taught him a few things about having honour and chivalry, amongst what his family already taught him too.

Then there was the other side of his conscience. The Nakiri Heiress just couldn't stroll around on her own like that without accompaniment. No bodyguard and no aide was a recipe for trouble. She could've been kidnapped for ransom if people knew who what family she was from, or repeatedly assaulted by idiotic, good-for-nothing scumbags with no morals or consideration for the opposite sex. One could tell from looking at her that she was from the elite class and wealthy. On top of that, she was gorgeous, beautiful, and poised. She had the best facial expressions when she didn't have her mask on. When she got huffy, her pout was undeniably cu—

Wait.

"Hey Kasai- _senpai_ , did you give me the same painkillers from the _Rapport Training Camp?",_ Yozora deadpanned.

"Yes. They are quite strong, aren't they. It thought it was best to administer them to you given the circumstances that awaits you in the coming months".

He was not himself. His current thoughts didn't mean anything to him. It was the awesome painkillers babbling rubbish in his fragile mind making him think of impossible things. Yozora looked down at his bandaged hand and tried to close them. This time it was successful, the pain had already ebbed away and he could wiggle his fingers around almost normally.

"I suggest, speaking as the ex-president of _The Guild,_ that you minimise your cooking practice so you don't make the bruising worse. Punching men twice your size was a reckless move. Don't forget that first and foremost you are a chef. You need your hands. They could've returned the favour with _a lot_ more vigour and both you and Nakiri could've ended up a lot worse".

Kasai- _senpai_ returned with a cup of organic tea. He placed it front of Yozora and he nodded his thanks. His _senpai_ settled in the seat opposite him. He crossed his long legs and clasped both his hands around his knee as he peered at Yozora disapprovingly through his spectacles. Talk about being in trouble when _he_ was the new President of _The Guild._ He guessed even an ordinary member Kasai- _senpai_ outranked even that out of pure _Kansai_ poshness.

' _Tell me something I don't know…'._

"It's impossible to request special consideration since the reason why Yozora's hand is hurt because he got into a fist fight. It won't go over with the Elite Ten", said Hayato-kun. "But if he mentioned it was to protect Nakiri—".

"She'll deny it", Yozora cut in.

"… Shit, really? That sounds like a dick move, even for her…". Hayato-kun whispered.

Yozora had thought about this a lot. She totally would because her reputation meant more to her than anything. He was just a blip of a competitor in the school. _The Guild_ might have garnered a bit more interest this year, but that wasn't going to be enough for Nakiri to reveal her association with him in the slightest.

"I'll be fine as long as I'm hopped off on painkillers". Yozora smirked. "Where's Tsurugi- _senpai_ anyway?".

The absence of the huge and reassuring presence of his other _senpai_ was like a vacuum in their clubroom kitchens. He hadn't seen him all day and he wondered what sort of trouble he was stirring up in the school.

"Tsurugi has taken a _quest_ and will be gone for about a month or so. He'll return for the second half of the Autumn Elections".

"Oh cool. Then we better crank out our best tracks so that we'll greet him as _Autumn Election_ finalists when he comes back!". Hayato jumped up and pumped his arm.

Yep. He could manage that. He still wished that Tsurugi- _senpai_ had let him know first. Oh well, the biggest member of _The Guild_ tended to jet off to _quests_ without a word like a wild animal bolting into the night. He had his best friend and _The Guild_ by his side cheering him the whole way.

 _Nothing_ could go wrong.

* * *

 **Oh Yozora, Murphy's Law... Murphy's Law... But we'll see, make sure you get a refill on your prescriptions. How many times are you going to get injured before you and Erina end up together?**

 **Erina's had a terrible experience on her day trip :(** **Erina isn't the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to trying to live like a normal teenage Japanese girl, but we could give her some points for making an effort right? Her day turning sour isn't her fault. She just wants to look at clothes and stalk Mitsunaga, and unfortunately... shit happens.**

 **Oh snap! Yozora whipping out his classical music side on Erina! AFTER SMOTHERING HER WITH HIS CHEST.**

 **Up next is the Autumn Elections! Le whoot!**

 **I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and until next time, keep fresh!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	9. Careening into Danger

_Chapter 9 - Careening Into Danger_

* * *

"Welcome back Nakiri-kun. How was your appointment?".

"Same as always. Pitiful. I should charge more for such a waste of time".

Erina fell in beside Isshiki- _senpai_ as he turned back around to resume his spectator-ship. Between themselves and the rippling students down below was a twenty-metre drop. The way it should be between the masses and the Elite Ten.

 _Heaven's Moon Hall._

The holy witness of the _Tootsuki_ Greats.

There was a thunder of applause, echoing upwards until it reached the viewing box. Photographers hung like vultures over huge telephoto lenses while around the edges, television cameras swung around to take in the embodiment of culinary pinnacles of the specially chosen _Tootsuki_ first years battling for their lives in the centre of it all. Erina harrumph and flicked her hair over her shoulder. Isshiki- _senpai_ and Eizan- _senpai_ pulled out all the stops to organise the illustrious _Autumn Elections,_ even for the Preliminaries. They managed to entice the _Orie_ twins of the Princess Curry Conglomerate to be one of the esteemed judges amongst their fine choices. Eizan- _senpai_ had a smooth tongue and money to burn so it probably wasn't too hard to squeeze _Tootsuki_ into the voluptuous twins' tight schedules.

"I'm sure you would. Now, just relax and enjoy the competition. The first years are really something. I think this generation will make the biggest mark in our history".

"We'll see". Erina sighed.

She could feel Isshiki- _senpai_ smirking beside her as he chose to keep silent. She found it infuriating that he was disagreeing with her without saying a word and with just an obnoxiously positive expression on his flawless face. That enigmatic close in conversation shot prickles over her skin and the Nakiri Heiress was compelled to cross her arms under her bust and shifted most of her weight onto her left leg as she resigned to 'enjoy' the preliminary round. Erina kept her eyes down on Block B, where her only interest lied.

' _Show them what you're made of… Hisako'._

Tempered blades sliced through meat with lethal precision and Erina missed none of it. Her aide was demonstrating her exemplary skills and Erina felt her lips twitch up in pride. The darling had been training non-stop and it was satisfying to see all that hard work invoking such awe from the students, judges and faculty members. She would definitely make it to the _Round of Sixteen,_ no doubt about it. She watched on as her loyal aide was calm and collected throughout, painstakingly methodical as she executed each medical cooking technique to perfection and with unparalleled grace. Hisako's cooking was a performance in itself. Such class and elegance befitting of her station, and the warm and fragrant flavours of her dishes had the power to really _change_ any physiological function of the human body. With the right knowledge and skill bestowed in the medicinal chef, it could pull back a person from the brink of death. Medicinal cooking was as formidable as it sounded.

"Any thoughts on Yukihira Souma?", asked Isshiki-senpai.

 _Irk._

Erina shifted away from him, pretending she didn't hear the question and just as she thought she succeeded, the brunette Elite Ten member turned his head towards her, clearly waiting patiently for her answer. Erina clicked her tongue.

"Like I said already. He has glaring issues regarding his behaviour. I still think he is not a fit participant for a venerable and historical event celebrating true _haute cuisine"._

What was the point of asking a question he already knew the answer to? She would be a broken record about this topic so that Isshiki- _senpai_ could take the hint. She couldn't give a rat's arse about Yukihira Souma. He was a dunce, he couldn't tell the difference between his superiors and his fellow plebes, his was uncouth, blunt and her time was too precious for entertaining thoughts of him. Truth betold, the red-head hadn't been on her mind for a long time for which she was thankful for, so she sarcastically thanked Isshiki- _senpai_ for bringing him up. Her brain-space was too precious for the likes of him. Sure, he had serious skills, but he was still a cretin who shouldn't have been allowed to step foot onto _Tootsuki_ in the first place. But what's done was done. She couldn't refute _Ojii-sama's_ admission of the diner chef anyway and she was done wasting her energy railing against the immovable mountain. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the astronomical standards of _Ojii-sama's_ elite school crushed Yukihira Souma's dreams. The universe always found a way to fix itself.

"Hmm… Your insight regarding cooking have almost always hit the mark. However when it comes to Souma-kun, I can't help but feel you get irrational. Is there something… _personal_ going on between you two?".

"W-What?".

"You heard me".

Erina was all types of uncomfortable crammed into her tiny body. She refrained from blustering like an uneducated urchin. She had more decorum than that. Instead she moved uneasily as she refused to acknowledge the conniving _senpai_. She felt her cheeks betray her body heat and she cleared her throat louder than she intended to indicate she had no wish to comment. How dare Isshiki- _senpai_ imply something as demeaning as boy-girl issues to be the sole root of any of her decisions he disagreed with! She simply thought Yukihira was not qualified, simple as that! If he wasn't her upperclassman, she would've given him a piece of her mind!

She curbed her bloodlust she decided to spectate the other block. Block A instead. She walked away from Isshiki- _senpai_ before he could make a jibing opinion again.

The viewing box was right in the middle the _Heaven's Moon Hall._ The viewing windows for the two blocks were on opposite sides. It separated Block A and Block B from the top, so the viewer from the reserved box could choose which block to watch. She did not need to watch over Hisako anymore as she knew she wouldn't lose.

A flash of blinding yellow and burnt orange nabbed her attention. Her eyes wandered over to it and fell onto Mito. The busty blonde was cooking with zeal that matched Hisako's only flashier. Hah. She was once part of her faction but the meat specialist's failure to defeat Yukihira in _shokugeki_ and take the Donburi RS clubroom brought too much shame upon her honour to allow her to continue being by her side. She barked the necessary orders to Hisako and took back Mito's specially assigned cooking room and took back her position. Nakiri Erina did not know the taste of failure and she refused for her underlings to feel the same… And she didn't need _anyone_ like that. Coming to watch that disgraceful _shokugeki_ was proof that there was an inkling of doubt in Mito's skill. If Erina was confident Mito would rise triumphant that day, then she wouldn't need to set time aside to watch her ex-underling to make sure that she basked in glory. But she went and _Kami-sama_ had it deemed it pertinent for her to bear witness to unfathomable weakness so that she knew who to get rid of from her retinue and maintain her standing and influence amongst the _Tootsuki_ student population invincible. The sadness and beseeching in Mito's eyes following her humiliating defeat did nothing to dissuade Erina's decision. Pitiful. People needed to learn one way or another that failure was intolerable.

Just like that, she sliced Mito off as easily as trimming fat off a slab of cheap meat.

"Ah~ Mito-san's determination is much brighter than it was before".

Erina sucked her teeth. He followed her? How annoying.

"I see she's searing cuts of pork belly before putting them to simmer. If I was down there, I would totally be wrapped with the deliciously strong smell of cooking meat. The spices too of course!".

It was then that she realised that the enormous quadruple flat-screen television screens suspended above the stadium was televising everything Mito was doing. The barrage of cuts and slices she inflicted upon her ingredients hadn't change at all, but she begrudgingly agreed with her _senpai_ that there was a renewed ferocity that wasn't there before and she had a niggling that it was fuelled by Mito's own drive, rather in the name of 'Nakiri Erina'. She ignored the rest of Isshiki- _senpai's_ commentary. Erina tilted her chin up and continued to examine her ex-underling's skill. It appeared Mito was using _Sichuan peppers._ The peppers were known for their fresh scent and extremely potent bite. It also eliminated any excessive odour from the meat. She narrowed her eyes. Ah. She was using a courser grind. It would have a stronger scent if it was ground down to powder, but then its flavour wouldn't soak into the meat as well.

' _She studied hard and knew the difference'._

Erina's fingers curled into fists.

' _No. I made the right decision. Mito isn't good enough to continue being by my side'._

Suddenly the crowd exploded in roars of astonishment. The flat-screens cut to a student who personified chaos and barbarianism. Kurokiba Ryou, her detested cousin's aide. He was usually nothing but a slow and lackadaisical blip in the corner of the expansive stadium but all at once, but out of nowhere, he grabbed the attention of every being in the block with savage glee. His personality did a complete one-eighty as soon as he tied on his blaze-patterned bandanna. This was the first time she'd seen him cook. She recalled the memory of when Alice introduced him to her as if he was a new pet she got for her birthday. It seemed he was good enough to attract Alice's attention. Erina silently praised his outstanding and quick knife-work. Alice was a loud and flamboyant nuisance easily entertained by trivial things, but she wasn't stupid. She had chosen an extremely strong aide to be by her side. Kurokiba dressed the spiny lobster as fast as lightning.

The cameras panned over to Sakaki Ryoko. Erina knew about her family and read her file. She specialised in _Koji._ She was a pretty girl and her sleek hair shone under the stadium lights. She was calmly going about her tasks with a calming nature. Erina grimaced at the cacophony of teenage boys cooing and squawking behind the _koji_ expert in the stands, touting banners and flags with her name adorned with red hearts. How unsightly. Erina concentrated on Sakaki's methods. _Koji_ was rice fermented with the mould _aspergillus oryzae_. It was used as a base for many popular Japanese ingredients like _miso_ paste and _amezake_ sweet rice wine. _Shio koji_ was Sakaki's specialty ingredient which was rich in enzymes that broke down the proteins and starch in other ingredients.

' _It's power as a miracle condiment can be used in curry too. There are so many ways she could use it. What will she choose? Hang on a second…'._

Erina leaned forward and scrutinised the television screen. That wasn't any type of _koji_ she knew. It was black. Was that _natto?_

Before she could figure it out, The camera continued travelling on and it landed on Hayama Akira. His silvery grey hair was tied back away from his face. Sharp eyes against caramel coloured skin shone under the stadium lights too and his nose twitched every so often, guiding his hands to do its bidding. His file was extensive as he was Shiomi _sensei's_ protégé and was involved in a lot of her projects. He had an astounding gift for spices thanks to his hyper-sensitive sense of smell and tenacity. If she had _God's Tongue_ then he had _God's Nose._ He was a threat. He had a row of small clear tubes of spices ready to be used lined up against the bench. Erina could see that his main ingredient was the head of the sea bream so obviously he was making 'fish-head curry'. It was a special dish originating from Singapore and Malaysia. It used the whole head of white-meat fish so that even delicately flavourful parts, like the eyes and cheeks could be enjoyed. Next Erina could see the Bengali chef put some baking powder into a bowl along with baking soda and yoghurt. His face was full of confidence and his eyes were full of fire.

' _He's making naan'._

Unlike Sakaki who had adoring fans behind her, Hayama was stationed in front of the 'Faculty Seating'. She could see the grimacing and scoffing the stuffy adults were sending Hayama's way. They sneered in derision. Erina could tell they were unimpressed with such an ordinary and obvious choice Shiomi- _sensei's_ prized student chose to serve with his fish-head curry. But they hadn't read Hayama Akira's file, so they didn't know what he was truly capable of.

Hayama left his _naan_ to rise and returned to his curry. Their reaction was instantaneous. As soon as he lifted the lid of his pot, the television camera reeled backwards! The adults behind Hayama all but fell forward as a stream of steam escaped the confines of the tall pot. The whole auditorium seemed to ripple as if Hayama was the stone thrown in the pond as they rode the waves of the invisible force of aroma whisking them away by his control. Erina was _very_ interested.

Suddenly smoke filled the screen and the camera retreated and spun over to where the source of the smoke was. The screen wiggled around and tried to focus and all she could see was a blurry shadow shrouded in grey smoke holding a lid of a pot. Finally it dissipated to reveal Ibusaki Shun. She read his file also. His shaggy mop of hair shielded his eyes and she wondered how he could through that mess. His file was mildly intriguing. He _smoked_ his ingredients. Smoking was another method of cooking that specialised in fragrance. So far she had observed closely two Polar Star students, students whom Isshiki- _senpai_ backed whole-heartedly.

' _Maybe they are worth something after all'._

Quick footsteps from behind alerted her to one more guest approaching the viewing box.

"Oh! Kasai- _senpai_ , you came after all" Isshiki- _senpai_ spun around and left the floor-to-ceiling window to greet the guest.

Erina slowly twisted her torso to face their way, about to glare at the newcomer as this box was reserved for VIP and Elite Ten students. She didn't recognise the student but for some reason she was affronted by the way he exuded high-breeding and grace as he nodded to Isshiki- _senpai_. He was a tall third-year student, accentuated by his unyielding posture and straight shoulders. He was breathing deeply as if he had hurried over, but there was no evidence of over-exertion. How could there be? He looked like the type of person who didn't sweat, but perspired and then one would realise that he didn't perspire either. His dirty-blonde hair was combed back neatly, save for a few tresses swept up at the hairline. The older student removed his spectacles whilst conversing with Isshiki- _senpai_ and procured a white monogramed square cloth from his inner blazer pocket and started to methodically rub the lens before replacing the thin spectacles over his eyes. Erina noticed he had startlingly warm and soft green eyes which pleasantly offsetted his aristocratic aura. His chiselled and stern face looked familiar to Erina, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She didn't come into contact with a lot of third-year students save for the Elite Ten.

"I was far too late. I hoped to make it in time to deliver the medication to Yozora-kun before he entered the stadium".

The Nakiri princess spun around fully.

' _What?'._

Suddenly two pairs of bewildered eyes landed on her. Oh no, she hadn't realised that she blurted her thought out loud! Erina clapped her hand over her mouth and she threw up her guard. She glared at the both them, challenging the two older students to say something about her ill-mannered interruption and to her relief they didn't.

"Nakiri-kun, I'd like to introduce you to Ishikagaku Kasai from _The Guild._ Third year student".

"How do you do", said the new guest.

Ishikagaku- _senpai_ nodded at her curtly as he delivered his greeting and regarded her with those green eyes. He had a strong, upper-class _Kansai_ accent and Erina found it added to his level of class. He looked nothing like the sort who would belong to such an abominable RS! Erina willed the churning in her gut to quiet down as she nodded at him. Words were stuck in her throat. A smile upturn at the corner of his lips made her avert her gaze momentarily. _The Guild_ was synonymous with the ex-classical musician, Mitsunaga Yozora. He had been hanging around the back of her consciousness doing nothing except float there but now he bulldozed to the forefront and it was too difficult to ignore it. Her chest area clinched at the memory of the last time she saw him, when they left _Seirin Shoutengai._ There were no parting words, only silence and not a single unanticipated meeting ever since… not even when she walked past his his usual napping spot. There was a strange feeling overwhelming her, something she had never experience in her life. The bizarre sensation in her chest expanded and Erina for the first time in ages felt conflict warring within her. Erina existed in one world: The world of the elite, powerful noble and wealthy. Upholding high expectations and standards were paramount and absolute knowledge, elegance and poise was just as important. Her family influential and important and so was she. It was the world only she knew and imagined nothing else for herself.

The other world was the one where _others_ trudged in. It was grey, monochrome and not worth looking at. They served society. They were the commoners, the average, nothing special, masses of people going through life with no extraordinary outcomes until they die. They were otherwise known as the working class. They knew their place, which was beneath her feet. She was happy to keep it that way. It was the unspoken rule all civilisations abide by for thousands of years.

Then one _impossible_ day…

Yukihira and Mitsunaga pole-vaulted over the barrier and landed themselves in front of her with offending grins on their face. One donned a grubby, old, dark long sleeved shirt and the other with expensive headphones. They walked right past her, through the opulent gates of her golden and pristine realm, trailing the pollution of the _other world_ with them to wreak havoc.

And she could do _nothing_ to stop it… staring at their _backs_.

Then last week happened and Mitsunaga had shown up with his _back_ facing her. No greeting. No questions. Nothing. He put his body between her and one of her greatest fears as a girl without being told or asked. He just did it on his own. Her relief to see his back was dumbfounding. She expected nothing of the sort! Everything happened so fast after that. Her fingers brushed the sides of her upper arms tentatively as her arms wounded tighter across her body. The tingle that whooshed past her uniform clad skin spoke of the memory of his arms embracing her when he shielded her in the coffee-shop the other day. His shear closeness, blunt touches and intense looks rocked her, and at the same time patted, pampered and caressed her insides in astounding cognitive dissonance, which she couldn't fathom to begin sorting out her feelings about his person. The sweetness and gentleness in his actions was borderline nauseating after they left the coffee-shop. The utter worry and concern within his attentive and intense cobalt blue eyes, and the gentle aftercare for her traumatising incident despite _everything_ she had done to him had dislodged something within her chest and it elicited a feeling she was unable to comprehend. When all the chaos was over and she had a moment to actually think and process the events of the weekend back in her manor, she found that minus the encounter with those dastardly delinquents, she had actually _enjoyed_ her outing.

 _Enjoyed his company._

Enjoyment. What an alien concept. It was as alien as that madcap _gamer-chef_ with his tight-lipped classical music past. Mitsunaga Yozora was a revealing paradox that Erina was still trying to figure out.

"Oh? What kind of medication, if you don't mind me asking, _senpai_ " asked Isshiki- _senpai._

" _Analgesics_ ".

"Painkillers? Why?".

She could've sworn it… she could've sworn there was a quick flit of the Ishikagaku- _senpai's_ eyes momentarily directed at her before it was gone just as fast as it came. No, it was a trick of the light. The crowd below erupted in cheers but she ignored it. Painkillers for Mitsunaga? It made her breath still and something foreboding crept along her spine making her mind unsettled.

"Yozora-kun was involved in an… altercation last weekend and had hurt his hand in the process. He has been on these analgesics for the past seven days to get him through his preparations for the Preliminaries. Unfortunately he lost his pills the day before. It was too late to get another prescription. I only found them this morning".

Ishikagaku- _senpai_ sighed. He took out a long rectangular box from his pocket wrapped in a prescription sticker, there was evidence it had been opened and closed, causing worn edges and tears on the edge of the cardboard box.

"Where did you find it?", asked Isshiki- _senpai_ , gesturing to the rectangular box.

"It was in the _Newspaper Club's_ computer room out of all places. The reason why it was there escapes me, but it doesn't matter anymore".

"Maybe Mitsunaga-kun had some business with the _Newspaper Club members_ and left it behind by accident", suggested Isshiki- _senpai._

"Perhaps. But I'm hard-pressed to say he is normally _that_ absent-minded. Again, it doesn't matter".

"My… those are awfully strong painkillers", commented Isshiki- _senpai_ , looking at the brand-name.

"Yes. They are extremely fast acting too. We specifically procured these. We ran out of the over-the counter ones too, to make things worse, so he is on nothing at the moment".

A cocktail of mixed feelings squeezed her heart and guilt tore at her. The altercation last weekend… he was talking about how Mitsunaga punched that large delinquent square in the jaw when they were in _Seirin Shoutengai_ , wasn't he? Mitsunaga had hurt his hand that badly that he needed strong painkillers for _seven days_ while he was still _training_ for the preliminaries?! If she remembered correctly, he used his right hand. Was that his dominant hand? However, Erina's pride was not enough to accept the stain of guilt jeering at her.

"Has his hand healed enough, though? He might be fine without it for today", said Isshiki- _senpai_.

Silence descended upon them and Ishikagaku- _senpai's_ thin eyebrows furrowed.

"Yozora-kun _almost_ broke one of his knuckles, so you tell me".

Erina refused to listen anymore. She spun on her heels and her long hair whipped across her neck. She crowded the clear glass that faced the opposite direction, Block A. She remembered which group was Mitsunaga's. Her violet eyes feverishly searching for the _stupid, idiotic, dumb, stupid, stupid, STUPID_ chef who was competing in one of _Tootsuki's_ toughest competition with an injured hand without his prescribed painkillers!

' _There!'._

She found him. It appeared nothing was wrong. He looked perfectly fine but Erina knew that probably wasn't the case. _Tootsuki_ students were trained to fight through adversity to do whatever it took to survive against competition and he was no different. Mitsunaga was just a tiny match-stick on the stadium somewhere in the middle of everybody else. His azure neckerchief and chocolate brown waist apron was unmistakable. The television cameras hadn't reached him yet so she couldn't see him closely. His hands flew across his ingredients like scaling up and down ebony and ivory keys. He had a strong rhythm as he weaved here and there across the bench top and stove getting things done. He listened to music while he cooked so he must be wearing his earbuds or something. He was too far away for her to see any bruising, but she could see how he was nodding his head up and down, thoroughly concentrating on his work. His knife skills were nothing short of breath-taking, and she had to admit it was better than Kurokiba's. She couldn't even tell that he almost broke his knuckles at all! He flipped and flicked his knives back and forth between his left and right hands. He was ambidextrous? It looked so bizarre. That was _not_ normal knife handling. He seemed to change grips with his knives all the time to get the perfect angle, the perfect slice, the perfect cut at lightning pace. Who taught him to use kitchen knives like that? She'd never seen anything like it! Mitsunaga switched between knives and utensils without missing a beat as well. He knew where everything was, without looking and it was like his utensils flew into his hand like magnets, rather than him reaching and grabbing for it.

 _'But How much pain is he TRULY in?'._

Erina growled and fury raised her shrieking hackles. No. she would _not_ be burdened with guilt over this. He did it to himself. He shouldn't have been forgetful and left his medications somewhere like an air-headed ten year old child. She most certainly didn't ask him to punch that guy for her! Screw him and his ego. He should've sat out of the _Autumn Elections,_ full stop. It wasn't the end of the world if he didn't compete. He wasn't going to make it against the other students when his right-hand was a huge liability! But no, the stupid idiot was inflicting more harm onto himself unnecessarily! Erina's hand placed itself on the window and pressed against it. Her manicured nails scrapped against the cold and hard glass until her long fingers scrunched together into her hot palms, shaking. So many hypotheticals raced through her mind like the grand prix.

"Why would he do this?".

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* * *

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"Shit. Only nineteen points out of a hundred?!".

Souma wiped his brow. Holy fuck, these judges were no push-overs. It looked like that Sendawara lady wasn't the only tough nut to crack. He heard from Marui that she was one of the two highly successful business women of Japan. Props for them in breaking the gender-ceiling in a man's world. Souma didn't know who these people were personally but they meant serious business and were judging them on professional standards, not student standards. Souma gulped. The poor girl was shaking and shivering, clutching her serving tray to her chest. She looked like she was about to buckle down under the acidic glare of the gorgeous blonde, ball-buster who sat in the middle the other men on the judging panel. She crossed her arms under her huge tits and scoffed down her nose-job. Souma shook his head. This was going to be hella-interesting.

"Zero points from Sendawara- _sama_ again…", murmured Ibusaki.

"Amazing! Almost ten people have been judged so far and she's given no points" piped up Sakaki- _chan_.

"All those dishes looked pretty darn good too".

Souma didn't understand. He genuinely thought those other student's dishes were amazing. They weren't on professional standards it seemed. To be honest, he would happy to serve them at _Yukihira Diner_ and he was sure his regulars would love it too. Was there such thing as standards being too high? Then he remembered that these judges were elite food critics for fine-dining circles of _haute cuisine_ and they probably sponsored Tootsuki in one way or another so they had to make sure that all the students' cooking were up to par. Souma's golden eyes left the judging panel to scrutinise his competition.

' _Damn, these guys look like they're up Shit-Creek without a paddle'._

In the second row of cooking stations, heads fell and shoulders slumped. That whole row of students' fighting spirit had already diminished from seeing the scores presented by the judges thus far. Souma clicked his tongue. He didn't know who those students were or where they came from, but they were probably from his class and he hadn't had a chance to speak to them yet. But right now, they were nobodies to him. He watched the way those disheartened students spook out like a clowder of over-sensitive cat. They glanced between their food and their shoes, never looking at the judges directly. Wow. It was absurd. _Oyaji_ always told him that he should always keep his eyes on the horizon. That he shouldn't go around comparing himself to anyone, that all he needed to concentrate on was improving himself and not give a damn about what people said he could or couldn't do. Souma thought those students needed _Oyaji's_ powerful words of wisdom right about now but he wasn't about to yell across the stadium of Block A.

Everybody else he knew like Nikumi, Kurokiba, Hayama, Ibusaki, Sakaki-chan looked fine and patiently waited to be judged. Hell, even Marui looked composed!

 _"Um… N-Next contestant please!"_ the emcee shrilled. _"Kurokiba Ryou-san! Please present your dish!"._

Souma felt the atmostphere dropped heavily on his shoulders. He met that guy one time. He was a piece of work. Souma watched him stalk towards the judging panel from the corner of his eyes. Despite his slouched posture, he was a coiled spring. His banner might be off and tucked into his back pocket for the time being but Souma could tell there was a blood-thirsty savagery that belied his _ennui_ exuding from his person.

 _Clink!_

"Hmm?".

Souma looked around at the sound of the noise and spotted a one of the students in the back row crouched down to pick up a spoon.

' _It's Mitsunaga'._

Souma was about to turn back around but halted.

Wait a minute.

Mitsunaga wasn't getting up.

Souma took a quick peep over to the front and found that the Sendawara lady was bickering about something as per usual so he figured he wasn't really missing anything. He left Ibusaki's side and jogged over to where Mitsunaga was.

"Hey man, are you okay?".

His eyes widened.

He looked like hell! Souma grabbed his shoulder and helped him up. Mitsunaga shoved his hands into his pockets and released an aggravated sigh. Dude. His complexion was so obvious. The President of _The Guild's_ face was pallid. The edges of his eyes were red-rimmed and he was huffing and puffing as if he ran a marathon without water. There was a tight grimace on his face and his jaw was grinding together as if he had a toothache. His nostrils flared as he took shaking breaths before he composed himself again. He didn't look good. Did he have a stomach ache? Mitsunaga wiped his forehead with the back of his left hand, successfully pushing away his fringe which was coated in sweat upwards and placed it back into his pocket. He smiled tiredly at Souma and grinned, his eyes crinkling shut as beads of sweat continued to appear on his brow.

The red head didn't buy it.

"What's wrong, do you need to sit down?", he hovered over his friend.

"Nah, I'm fine. Just a little tired from the adrenaline and stuff".

That made sense. He guessed the music Mitsunaga chose for his recipe must've taken a lot out of him mentally and emotionally. A battle song or something? Maybe listening to video-game music while cooking under heavy duress wasn't such a good idea after all, Souma thought. Mitsunaga did things like this all the time. That was a wrong assumption to make. Souma back-pedalled. He wasn't qualified enough to make that judgement, so he left it. Souma thought again and dismissed the heart-thumping music to be the cause. He was definitely ill in some way.

"You shouldn't push yourself if you're sick", Souma pushed again.

"I'm not. Just a little… tired. Thanks for worrying though, but don't be".

Mitsunaga straightened himself and clapped Souma on the shoulder, friendly appreciation evident in his tired eyes. Fuck, something was totally wrong. Mitsunaga reached up and fiddled with the wireless ear buds in his ear. He looked like a spy expecting an incoming transmission. Souma furrowed his eyebrows. The bastard was hiding something and he wasn't about to let it go that soon. But he had to right now because they were in the middle of the Preliminaries. He watched as Mitsunaga blatantly ignored him and faced the front to watch the judging. Souma sighed, his golden eyes not leaving the dark-haired teen's profile. If the bastard was cooking like he did back at _The Guild_ clubroom whilst sick, then he was totally dobbing him on Ishikagaku- _senpai_ because that was an idiotic move, even for Yukihira Souma's standards… unless the _megane-senpai_ already knew? Souma couldn't imagine the upperclassman allowing this to happen, even if Mitsunaga was The President of _The Guild._

" _Kurokiba Ryou-san's score is… ninety three points!"._

"Crap! I missed it!".

Souma spun around in time to see the scoreboard flash with the Mad-Dog's name and score, pushing him right to the first position. He whistled long and low. The judges, including Sendawara were all disheveled, they slumped over the desk as if Kurokiba's _**Lobster Curry**_ dish rocketed them to the moon. Souma rested his palm against his hip as the beastly student prowled in his direction. Deadly and piercing eyes sought his and penetrated him, a maniacal grin sliced across his face like the Devil. Souma didn't back down. The guy didn't scare him, only riled him up.

" _For as long as I can remember… I've lived on the battlefield that's called a kitchen… compared to what I've seen, this place is nothing!"._

Steam escaped his mouth as if Kurokiba was a hound out of hell. He barely spoke like a human. His voice took on such a guttural and deep quality that Souma had difficulty picking out his words. His bulging muscles danced as he lifted his arm up towards his bandana, but when he gave Souma one last threatening glowering before ripping the bandana from his head…

… he was back to being a sloth.

Souma threw back his own stony stare before Kurokiba trudged off. He looked at the scoreboard again and marvelled at the distance between Kurokiba's score and the other scores. He had a legit shot at winning, but Hayama had yet to present his dish. It looked like the spice-specialist had a dark horse as a serious contender. Suddenly, a delicious fragrance of sweet pork graced his nostrils as the next contestant strutted past him. Souma blinked and saw it was Nikumi. She confidently plonked her dishes in front of the judges.

"Ahh! This curry—".

"Go on folks, dig in! My dish is a _**dongo pork curry bowl!**_ ".

Souma had to admit, Nikumi knew how to work it. Damn, he was salivating from her _donburi! Dongo_ pork was pork belly braised in a mixture of _sake,_ sugar and soy-sauce. It was thought to be the origin recipe behind _kakuni_ pork stews. Souma was amazed at how perfect the cuts of pork were. The alternating layers of meat and fat were perfectly distributed and even like the different types of bedrock pressed together over millions of years, forming beautiful striated patterns on the rock walls of canyons. They practically gleamed with beauty. Even a soft shake of the bowl made the meat jiggle. The only way to achieve that was to cook the meat to supreme tenderness without it falling apart. _Oyaji_ told him one time that this amazing feat required exceptional sensitivity and delicacy to heat the meat at just the right temperature. Souma watched the judges eyes widen like saucers as they took in Nikumi's awesome dish. He would bet his scooter that they were salivating right now.

"It looks like Mito-san's dish is getting a favourable reception", said Sakaki-chan.

"Yeah. Way to go Nikumi!". Souma cheered.

Souma wondered what it tasted like to take a big bite out of that fatty meat. Saliva was also pooling in his mouth. He also betted his clean sheets that those thick slabs of pork belly soaked up tonnes of the Nikumi's special curry sauce. Souma didn't envy The Sendawara Lady though. She looked like she hadn't gotten over Kurokiba's dish yet and she was still riding on the blissful aftermath of his earth-shattering effects. Souma wondered if she could still walk after this. The gorgeous blonde pulled herself together enough to take a bite out of Nikumi's curry dish.

Cascades of praises spilled from the judges lips as they narrated every sensation inflicted upon them from texture, to taste, to fragrance. They shovelled more spoonfuls of the steaming rice coated in thick curry sauce. Large droplets stuck to the corners of their mouths as they worked their spoon to scoop more of the delicious rice.

"After I parboiled, seasoned and pan-seared by the pork belly, I braised it in a mixture of oyster sauce, _shoyu, Shaoxing_ wine and other seasonings. I gave it its fragrance with star anise, ginger and _Sichuan_ peppers".

Uh… didn't the judges realise that they still had other dishes to try, not to mention _his?_ They just kept eating like their life depended on it, like they were nowhere near full. Souma rubbed his chin and tried to figure out why they were full from all the dishes they tried yet.

' _Ah! It's the rice!'._

"Mito-san had mixed the rock-salt and _Sichuan_ peppercorn oil into the rice. That's why they can't stop eating".

"Eh? Mitsunaga?".

Souma looked to the side and found the gamer-chef seemed to recover a bit more and joined the himself and other Polar-Star dorm mates to watch the judging more closely. Her read his mind. He was still sweating and was breathing deeply. His shoulders were slumped, but otherwise he looked determined to be here and present with them. Souma decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and would not question him anymore… for now.

"The refreshing scent and tongue tingling flavour of the peppercorn oil ameliorates the oiliness of the fats, but it's spiciness would make the judges want to take more bites of the sweet meat like a chain reaction".

"Heh, and I thought you're just in your own bubble when you're cooking to music", chuckled Souma.

Mitsunaga offered him a wry smile "When it's a _battle royale,_ I need to keep at least one eye out".

Souma conceded to that. When he first met Nikumi, she introduced herself as a 'meat specialist' and how her skills were leagues beyond the other students. She was also spouting some nonsense about not needing any other ingredients to showcase with her meat dishes, but today her cooking had clearly advanced. Nikumi was now studying and paying attention to other ingredients instead of just meat, to compliment and heightened the best parts of her specialised ingredient.

" _Eighty-six points!"._

"Damn! I didn't even break ninety!". Nikumi grunted.

"Great job Nikumi! That bowl looked seriously good!". Souma cheered again.

"R-Really, I used what I learned from you. You know… _complete in one bowl_ and all that…". She circled the air with her index finger without looking at him. Her cheeks were all red. She must be tired too.

"Looks like you've got that lesson down pat".

She grinned at him and harrumphed in response. "Ah Mitsunaga. Are you okay?".

"I'm fine".

Nikumi shot the gamer-chef a disbelieving look before turning away. He _was_ starting to look a bit better but not near enough to be 'fine'… or maybe Mitsunaga was getting better at covering up whatever that was going on with him.

" _Ladies and gentlemen, it's finally looking like a tournament in here. Let's keep this up! Our next contestant is Sakaki Ryouko-san!"._

The red-head waved at Sakaki-chan as she brought her dishes to the front. She smiled at him mischievously and Souma was confident that she would wow the judges. Souma had the opportunity to look at Sakaki-chan's dish while the judges were busy tasting the dishes of the first few students. It initially looked like _dal_ bean curry which was similar to _chana masala,_ a Punjabi dish which used chickpea. It didn't have the visual impact the other dishes have but Souma knew that presentation wasn't as nearly as important as the taste. The moustached judge scooped a spoonful and a sticky string of sauce stretched out, refusing to leave the spoon. One of the judges proudly commented that there was _natto_ as if he was a detective.

"Wait… this is no normal _natto!"._

"Yes, sir. I developed this _natto_ by hand using charcoal smoke. It's charcoal aged _natto_ ".

The judges fell silent and was instantly captivated by Sakaki-chan's revelation. Heh. So _that's_ why she spent so much time in Ibusaki's smoking workshop… where else could she get high quality charcoal for free, amongst other things. Souma decided to file away his conspiracy theory and promised to interrogate Ibusaki later for juicy details.

"After I added the _natto_ spores to a batch of soyabeans, I stored them in an underground room. There I lit a charcoal fire and then kept the room at just the right temperature and humidity to ferment the soyabeans. As the process takes several days to complete, I prepared it ahead of time, over the summer break. The carbon dioxide generated by the charcoal fire impacts on the maturation of the soy proteins. It gives the _natto_ a richer flavour. It also halts the bacteria death in the beans, preventing the typical smell of ammonia from developing!".

"But that isn't all!".

Sendawara banged her fist on the bench, making the dish clatter, but the rice remained unmoving because of the sticky _natto._ Woah, she should take it easy. Her eyes narrowed at Sakaki-chan, unsatisfied with her answer. Souma could see little wisps from smoke escaping her ears as she visibly growled at his Polar Star dorm mate.

"There is another flavour— a deeper, more savoury one that resonates across the tongue like a deep _bass_ chord".

Mitsunaga snorted and smirked beside Souma.

"You're _so_ enjoying this, aren't you".

"I like it when people appreciate music as much as I do".

Souma chortled. He gave Mitsunaga a last once over and deemed that he was looking much better and that colour had returned to his cheeks. He faced the judging panel again.

"Oh that? As a special hidden seasoning, I added I added _shoyu koji_ ". Sasaki-chan said proudly.

 _Shoyu koji._ Souma was privy to one of Sasaki-chan's lessons at Polar Star dorm when he first arrived at _Tootsuki._ The great thing with bunking with a bunch of diverse and talented students was that he got to learn off of everyone. Except for Isshiki- _senpai_ because he was always working on the plantation and was never dressed properly enough to teach in the kitchen. One afternoon, he had wondered into Sakaki-chan's _koji_ lab to explore and stumbled upon her checking her data sheet. He used supermarket grade _koji_ a bunch of times, but never knew how painstaking it was to make it. It was then that he asked about her, her specialty and she was happy to teach him a thing or two about what she was planning for the near future.

Instead of salt, soy sauce was added to the _koji_ bacteria and mixed with the rice until it was thick. Then it was left to ferment at a constant temperature for several weeks. _Shoyu koji_ had over _ten times_ the glutamic acid, which was an _umami_ component that soyabeans possessed.

' _I see now. While the strong flavour of curry spices drowns out most of the seasonings, shoyu koji's flavour is powerful enough that it is instead a savoury magnifier. Her curry takes a full advantage of her detailed knowledge of fermentation techniques'._

Souma watched as the judges shoved dark mounds of rice, curry and _natto_ into their mouths. They even slurped up the sticky _natto_ strings even though it was messy and undignifying. The faces were contorted in writhing pleasure as they moaned and groaned with abandon.

" _Eighty-six points! She tied for second place!"._

The crowd cheered as the last student on the scoreboard disappeared and the next one dropped down to eighth place. Nikumi and Sakaki-chan's named were both ranked the same. Sakaki-chan bowed graciously to her judges before turning around and walked back to her cooking station. She produced a bright smile and Souma could hear Daigo and Shouji whooping and howling in the back for her. Souma raised his palm and she hi-fived him before taking her place at her station again.

" _Will the next contestant please present their dish!"._

But the next contestant had already beat the tiny emcee to it.

Marui didn't like to waste time.

"It's white. The noodles… the _roux._ It's all white. These are _udon_ noodles and it looks like they have cumin powder needed into it. So this is your take on curry?", inquired the judge.

"Yes, sir". Marui adjusted his round glasses "This is _**potage blanc curry udon**_ _"._

Some unsavoury whispering reached Souma's ears. His eyes moved to his peripheral vision and spotted some boys smirking and sneering, talking loudly amongst each other. Souma caught words like 'weak' or something like that. Souma didn't like back-stabbing and rumour-mongers. He fisted his hands by his side and was about to turn around to tell them all to shut the hell up.

"Just ignore them. Marui-san will prove them wrong".

Mitsunaga's calm voice broke through his frustration. He was right. He should be the better person. Souma huffed and did his best to ignore them. Those guys didn't know _shit._ But Marui didn't need him to fight his battle for him, he was capable enough to do that on his own. He nodded at Mitsunaga who smirked at him in return. Souma had a look at Marui's presentation. If Kurokiba's lobster curry was a rushing torrent of vibrant colours then he would call Marui's curry udon the picture of a tranquil spring. Souma waited for the judges critique to show all the students how great and hardworking Marui was.

"…".

"…".

"…".

"Uh… nothing?", Souma deadpanned.

"Marui-kun's _potage blanc_ is disappearing fast. What more can you say?", offered Mitsunaga.

Souma couldn't really argue with that. On more occasions than he could count, _Oyaji_ had made some dishes that were so mind-numbingly delicious that Souma couldn't utter a single sound and just kept, eating and eating until no evidence of the dish was ever there in the empty bowl. So this must be the same!

Marui's dish had rendered the judges speechless!

" _Marui Zenji-san scores eighty-eight points! He's in second place! Yet another high score! Ladies and gentlemen, will this trend continue-? Ohhhh~"._

Souma felt like his face just got slapped, but in a good way. Then something like ghost fingers graced his nostrils. Bam. Trust Ibusaki to bring on the dramatics. The rich smell of his special woodships permeated the room. Wisps of silver-grey smoke curled and dance their way through the spice-riched air to fill in every nook and cranny of the auditorium. Even long after Ibusaki's own judging, Souma knew the smoky smell would linger in the judges' clothes and hair.

"My name is Ibusaki Shun. My dish is _**special smoked curry**_ _._ Have a taste".

The Sendawara Lady grumbled about something at the front to the judges about bacon but Souma fully couldn't hear what she was saying and he wasn't all that surprised. No matter the delicious dishes presented to her, she always had something to gripe about. Were all beautiful rich women like that? Or just her?

"Mmm! The aroma is so powerful it's almost a punch to the chest. I can taste hints of course ground cinnamon, cumin, cardamom and cloves".

"Not only that". Another judge chipped in. "Ibusaki-kun used apple wood for his smoke chips. Compared to cherry and other wood trees, apple wood gives off a milder, sweeter smoke".

"Ah I see! So that's how he was able to smoke all the ingredients without overpowering the curry spices. Correct, that was the perfect wood to use to highlight the course ground spices he chose".

"I also—".

"He added spices to his curing compound too". Sendawara chimed in. "I could taste the curry spices in all of the smoked ingredients".

"The toppings also show an excellent hand" The moustached judge stabbed a half of a soft-boiled egg an inspected it. "The smoked egged was soft-boiled to perfection. It's _umami_ flavours were delectably concentrated. The yolk is practically jelly. Hmm… but how did you give a complete sense of unity to your dish despite the disparate toppings…".

"The method was—".

"Ah! Now I see! You smoked the salt used in your spice mix!".

"Yes. I didn't use—".

"Not just any salt. It's _Moshio_ ". Sendawara threw her next critique in. " _Moshio_ is made by burning salty seaweed, soaking the ash in water and then boiling down the resulting liquid. It gives the dish a mellow but robust flavour and it harmonises all those different ingredients. Alright, let's give our scores".

" _Eighty-eight points! He's made the jump to second place"._

Souma watched Ibusaki frown and then walked back to the kitchen station with his serving tray. Poor guy didn't get a word in at all. Souma caught him on a few occasions between breaks in his training where Ibusaki was talking to himself in his room behind closed doors. Souma had initially thought the unkempt-haired student had finally cracked and gone mental, but Isshiki- _senpai_ assured the worried red-head that Ibusaki was just practicing his elocution. Souma often needed Ibusaki to speak louder since he was often soft-spoken. When he successfully raised his voice, he was always blunt and flat which never failed to give Souma pause. So he felt bad that his taciturn dorm-mate couldn't let his efforts come to fruition. Oh well. Next time. He was sure to cheer him up later when they get back to the dorm. Ibusaki slumped his shoulders and started muttering something to himself. Souma could see that he was super happy with his score, but also frustrated. He should probably work on his stage presence on top of his elocution to get top-notch command of the room, and not just hide behind the smoke all the time.

Souma looked up at the scoreboard and hummed in appreciation. Isshiki- _senpai_ said only eight students from each block got to advance into the _Round of Sixteen_. So far things were looking good for Polar Star. Sasaki-chan tied for fourth place with Nikumi. What happened if there were still tied scores at the end of the round? How did the judges settle who would get bumped out?

' _Ah I shouldn't speak so soon, there are still spots. After all… I want to see where THOSE TWO will rank'._

" _Ladies and gentlemen! We are now getting close to the end. The next contestant, please come forward! Mitsunaga Yozora-san!"._

The auditorium erupted in mixed yammering and Souma watched as Mitsunaga returned to the kitchen station and efficiently moved his serving tray with his dishes into his arms. Souma couldn't see what dishes they were because they were covered in a shining silver _cloche_ each. Damn, he was getting more intrigued. He also wanted to listen to the song that inspired the dark-haired chef so he had to catch up with him later on. Back in the waiting area, Mitsunaga said it was _**Track Seventy-nine.**_ Mitsunaga managed to get halfway to the judges until Souma spotted something he simply couldn't ignore.

"Oi Mitsunaga, your tray is shak—".

" _STOP RIGHT THERE!"._

A piercing feminine voice cried out across the whole stadium stunning everybody into silence. Souma jumped on the spot and retracted his arms which was reaching for the gamer-chef. Mitsunaga obeyed those orders as if he was a cadet falling in line for the drill sergeant. His serving tray immediately stilled.

" _EH?! Nakiri Erina?!"._

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 _'IDIOT!'._

Erina broke into a sprint as soon as she reached the stadium. She had climbed the steps two and time and her thighs were wearing complaining like no tomorrow. She could hear the shouts of security behind her barring Isshiki- _senpai_ and Ishikagaku- _senpai_ from chasing after her. Those buffed men wouldn't _dare_ touch her because she was the Nakiri Heiress so she took advantage of it and sidestepped them all to reach the IDIOT.

She ignored the strange looks of petrified students gaping at her until she reached her quarry. Shocked striking blue eyes stared at her as she drew closer. Her face flushed with her exertion and she gasped for each breath. Her fist crushed the box of painkillers as her arms swung back and forth, pulling her forward with each leaping stride. Her school bow might've been all lopsided, her skirt was a mess and her blazer was flapping around but none of that mattered because the student in _real_ trouble was the one who stood there like a deer in headlights! His dark fringe matted against his hairline and the collar of his chef's garb was stained with sweat. His face was paler than on the television screen and there were dark circle around his eyes. It was some divine intervention that he hadn't dropped his serving tray into a terrible mess already! She noticed then at the fingers of the right hand supporting the underside of the serving tray laden with plates were _shaking._

"Nakiri?! What are you doing?". Mitsunaga hissed. He threw a cautionary look at the judges who were raising their eyebrows at this new development.

Erina skidded to a stop and caught her breath. She'd never run that fast in her life. The television screen barely took shots of Mitsunaga and when it finally did, her emotions exploded. Her heart twisted and tore to see him holding in such _pain_ that it drove her to snatch the painkillers from Ishikagaku- _senpai's_ hand and flew out of the viewing box. He was putting himself through all this as a result of protecting her that day and he was being too chivalrous. She had initially believed that he would be able to make it since he hadn't called for assistance, from what she saw and that he completed his dish on time. She had Yukihira's easy-to-spot figure went to him a few times but that was it. But no, the idiot was an _idiot_ and so was _she._ Why did boys like him have to be like that for no good reason?! She was completely unaware of the suffering he withheld for the past seven days, and he just powered through like any other school day leading up to the _Autumn Elections_. She thought putting his hands in his pockets when they were out was a Mitsunaga-Yozora-thing, but now she understood that he had been hiding the bruising on his knuckles the whole time. She glowered at the fine features of the bane her existence.

"You are such a stubborn mule…". She rasped. "Why are you continuing this ridiculous stunt when you obviously can't?".

"Wha— How— ".

Erina thrusted the medication at his face. The tall boy had to lean back before he got punched by accident, not that it would be his first assault from Erina. His eyes widened further in realisation. That's right. He should face his idiocy. Suddenly he diverted his eyes and he the shame brought her gratification. His face reddened significantly.

"Your _senpai_ found your medication. You should've asked to be exempted from the preliminaries in the beginning, otherwise your hand—"

"Excuse me! We haven't got all day? What on Earth is going on? Do you want zero points from all of us right here and now?", Sendawara-sama clipped loudly into her lapel microphone.

Erina looked over and realised she was still holding up the judging process. The male judges threw them confused looks and were whispering amongst each other, but Sendawara Natsume couldn't read the mood at all and was just impatiently growling at them. The slip of a girl, the emcee, stood there quaking in her shoes, clutching the microphone to her chest, not knowing what to do. Swarms of murmuring and muttering buzzed through Block A. Erina could see Eizan- _senpai_ lurking in the shadows behind the judges.

"Damn. It can't be helped". Mitsunaga hissed again and his hands shook more.

"Put the tray do—".

His mouth dropped open.

"Wh-What are you doing?", Erina gaped at another one of his weird behaviours.

"I need to serve, just give me the damn pills". His mouth opened widely again.

EHHH?! He wanted her to _feed_ the pills directly into his mouth?! Erina's brain snapped. Did the pain reach his brain and completely muddled it up?! She was going to do no such thing. The weirdo should just put the tray down and she would deposit it into his good hand. He probably mucked up his dishes anyway and would get a pitiful failing score, so what was with the need to complete the serving process? She rather the judges not taste his food when he was at his worst. Mitsunaga glared at her with determined eyes.

She'd never seen him like this before…

Erina grimaced and hastily took out the pack from the box and popped out one dose as per the instructions, from the aluminium and plastic casing. She lifted them up to his face but her arm froze just short of a few centimetres. Oh _Kami-sama!_ This was so embarrassing! Feeding him like a girlfriend to her boyfriend in those _shojou manga_ was absolutely degrading! She was way above this action, what would the Nakiri elders think of this _unthinkable_ display of subservience. Her face felt too hot to handle and her heart was hammering against her sternum in protest. It was her hand's turn to shake uncontrollably and she could feel her palms getting clammy. She couldn't make her arm go any further! A swift streak of impatience crossed his feature before he twisted his body around so the tray was no longer between them.

He bent his head closer to her hand.

Erina felt every. Single. Thing.

His hot breath against her skin.

.

.

The gentle nip of his teeth on her fingers as he took the pill.

.

.

The soft encasing of his feathery lips around her fingers to make sure of its safe transfer.

.

.

The quiet _pop_ as they lightly sucked them as they left.

.

.

The pronounced descent of his Adams apple in his throat when he dry-swallowed.

.

.

The whole time… his eyes never left hers.

.

.

Then he walked towards the judging panel. Erina almost collapsed onto the floor. Hot. _Too_ hot. _Boiling_ _hot_. Why did it feel so _intense._ His eyes were just… _URGH!_ Just the simple act was enough to make her want to plunge her head into an ice-bucket. The whole world descended into silence and she couldn't hear a single thing. Something weird was happening in her lower stomach and she didn't know what to do. Static crackled in the air between them unlike the other times they were in the same vicinity. This was different. Utterly different. _Something had changed._ Just a few months ago he was the most irritating and confusing teenager, like Yukihira, but more mysterious, and there should've been _nothing_. It was enough to make the baby hairs at the back of her head stand at attention. But now, it was enough to make Erina fear for her sheltered life… like… if any part of his body touched her one more time, she would be instantly electrocuted.

Erina stood there with arms hanging limp by her side. She looked at the judging panel and only saw his slim back and then trailed down to his right hand. They were no longer hidden. Dark purple contusions coloured his knuckles. Oh no. Oh no no _no._ It was worse than she had thought. If only the stupid television camera properly broadcasted Mitsunaga's cooking earlier, then she would've gotten the pills to him sooner! Her legs moved on their own again, and she grabbed his wrist when he stepped back. The serving tray clattered to the ground, causing a huge din to reverberate throughout Block A. She didn't care. No. He could yell and shout at her all he wanted, but she was going was doing this for his own good.

"Mitsunaga Yozora will be dismissed from the judging part of the Preliminaries! All of his results are to be documented in writing and sent to Eizan Etsuya and Isshiki Satoshi!". She announced loudly.

"Hang on Nakiri—". Mitsunaga started.

"You be quiet!". She shouted at him.

He shut his mouth immediately and genuine fear filled his features. The other students stood back aghast, not knowing what to make of this. They finally turned to each other in question but none dared make a move towards her. Erina took one last look at his battered right hand and snarled at the great purple welts that she was sure had deepened over days. She felt Mitsunaga sigh in complete exhaustion beside her and finally, his true colours showed and dropped his pretense. He pulled his injured hand close to his body.

"I w-wish to be excused… if I may, judges". He whispered the last part.

"I don't know what's going on but your hand doesn't look good", said Koda-san, the moustached judge. "Have you been cooking all this time in such a state?".

"…Yes, sir". Mitsunaga conceded.

"Well get out of here brat! Go to the school nurse or something. Don't just stand there. We will judge your dish and you'll get your results after". Sendawara-sama yelled.

Mitsunaga seemed to sober up at that and Erina wasted no time. She grabbed his good hand and pulled him off the stadium. Her feet beated against the floor like drums and Mitsunaga ran behind her, not attempting to free his wrist. Her breathing stuttered but she had to make sure they got to the school infirmary soon. She bypassed the Preliminary officials and their yelling fell on deaf ears. She only had one problem to concentrate on and it was the stubborn dolt who was nothing but trouble on her sensibilities.

"We're here".

Erina stopped in time when she reached her destination and wrenched the door of the _Tootsuki_ doctor's office open. Urgh… he wasn't there. Typical. Erina roughly guided Mitsunaga into the white and sterilised room. His rump sought the edge of the sick-bed and looked around all dazed and tired.

"Kishitani- _sensei_ is probably on lunch break. You stay put and I'll get someone on the intercom for him".

Erina refused to look at the gamer-chef and turned away, ready to walk out and prepared to never see him for the rest of the afternoon.

"Wait! Why did you… Why did you run onto the stage like that?".

"Why didn't you withdraw from the preliminaries when your hand is mangled?!". She shot back with more bite.

She faced him and crossed her arms. Her eyes stung and she continued to pin him down with her acrimonious eyes. He fidgeted on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and he released an aggravated sigh.

"I wanted… I needed—".

"What? Wanted _what? Needed what?_ You need to take care of yourself!". Erina approached him at boiling point."Don't you care what happens to you? What if your knife-hand slipped and you cut yourself?".

"Wait—".

"What if you broke your knuckle for real?".

"But I—".

She took three huge steps, grabbed his neckerchief and yanked him to her with brutal force.

" _What if you can't cook or play the piano anymore?!"._

Erina couldn't take it anymore and drowned into the depths of his bottomless blue eyes. The dam burst and the angry hot tears dripped down her flush cheeks. She tried to squeeze them back into her eyeballs but it was useless. Mitsunaga rubbed his face with his good hand and then closed over hers which still had a tight grip around his azure neckerchief. They were large, warm and sweaty. He rubbed circles over her own knuckles until they loosened their iron-clad hold.

"You're right. It was stupid of me. I thought I could do it. I thought I could cook through the pain and deal with the consequences later. I'm sorry I made you worry".

"I-I wasn't worried at all" she garbled.

"I have to do this… because the Autumn Elections is the only way for _Tootsuki_ to realise the value of _The Guild._ We're not a joke. We're serious and have something to show for it"

The haze around Erina's cloud of anguish and fury started to dissipate.

"Is it really worth that much?".

"You have no idea".

Silence passed through them and Erina honestly didn't know how much time passed. He was right, she didn't have an idea about how his brain worked. She was emotionally tired. She didn't really agree with him, but she could feel where he was coming from. She was well aware of how much scorn his RS received from the school. They received the least amount of funding and barely any recognition and it was a miracle that they remained active for this long. She could see that his passion and love for his RS was so strong that he was willing to forego the use of his right hand for a period of _Kami-sama_ knew how long, just to prove himself and for his RS to be acknowledged and accepted.

' _He's so stupid'._

 _Thump! Thump! Thump!_

" _Oi Mitsunaga!"._

" _Yo-kun!"._

The sharp and loud slam of the door crashing against the wall snapped Erina out of her stupor. She spun around was suddenly pushed out of the way by a wailing blonde who fell to his knees before Mitsunaga. A second person caught her before she slammed into the medicine cabinet. She looked up to see Yukihira's face staring down at her with mild concern. Erina shrieked and quickly wiped her eyes and nose for any evidence that she had an emotional breakdown. He let her go and went over to Mitsunaga.

"Yo-kun! Your hand! It looks like a car crash! It's purpler than yesterday! You should've said something! Why did you lie to me and told me it didn't hurt anymore!".

"Hayato-kun… get off…".

"Never!".

Mitsunaga visibly resigned and allowed Ginsekai to all but crawl onto his lap. Erina re-composed herself and watched the ludicrous spectacle with disdain. Grown boys shouldn't be making such a tearful ruckus. Mitsunaga shook around like a rag doll from the force of Ginsekai's demands for an explanation and his strong declarations of friendship and having 'no secrets' between the two.

"Is the preliminaries over?". Erina asked Yukihira.

"Oh! Yeah, we came to check up on Mitsunaga and tell him the results from our block".

"And?". The raven haired teen pushed his friend's face away with his good hand, eagerly waiting for Yukihira's answer.

"Here, I jotted it down. These are the eight from Block A who go onto _The Round of Sixteen_ ". He fished out a crumpled piece of paper from his apron pocket for all to see.

 _Hayama - 94_

 _Me - 93_

 _Mitsunaga - 93_

 _Kurokiba - 93_

 _Mimasaka Subaru - 91_

 _Marui - 88_

 _Ibusaki - 88_

 _Nikumi - 86_

Erina choked.

 _'He managed to pull off ninety-three points with his hand like THAT?!'._

* * *

 **Hey boys and girls :) It's been a while. Work was crazy. So many review assessment reports due for my disability patients. Urgh. So anyways, I hope you enjoyed this roller-coaster of a chapter. Mitsunaga is just full of bad luck here. I wonder if it will turn?**

 **I took some creative liberties with the Autumn Elections. First, I fudged the architecture of the viewing box, I fudged some of the things the judges said from the manga, I left out Kurokiba's critique because I'm saving his awesomeness for later. I skipped Yukihira's and Hayama's bits for the same reason. I was mean to Ibusaki and didn't let him talk, and finally, I stretched the 4 from each block who go onto the next round from the canon into 8 each instead, so that the competition tier makes sense and fit evenly, and that it would include _The Guild_ members!**

 **I'll tell you now, Hayama and Kurokiba are pissed off at Mitsunaga.**

 **Please let me know what you guys think, and I'll see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	10. A Quick Pit Stop

_Chapter 10 - A Quick Pit Stop_

* * *

 **Post Preliminaries – Intermission One**

"Let's get this over and done with".

Hisako straightened out the lapels of her uniform and shuffled her tote bag from her left shoulder to the right. Well, this seemed like the right place as she eyed the plated number underneath the one-way door-peep hole. When Erina-sama's private limousine turned into the more affluent part of town, she was a little bit surprise that this area would be her final destination. The building was new. Very new. It was as if it was only finished a month ago. It looked almost too new in a strange way. It was as if it had rolled off a production line and they had forgotten to customise the colour of the facades. The windows for each living unit were tall for an apartment building. Maybe that was the new trend? Pedestrians would be able to see through them from an uncomfortable distant if the tenants weren't being mindful. Hisako stood in front of a navy blue door, a far cry from the rest of gleaming grey and white that glossed over the exterior and interiors. The wide contrast was a little unsettling, standing out too much to be reasonable. Now that she saw, the other doors on this level were all rich blue as well. Odd.

It wouldn't hurt to double check the address. She pulled out her phone from her skirt-pocket and quickly looked through her memos.

 _Seirinchou._

 _Fumin_ District

Block twenty-nine

Apartment building thirteen

Apartment level four

Apartment number fifteen.

It was all there and correct, exactly to Erina-sama's specification. She hoped the tenants were home otherwise this would be a horribly wasted trip and her mistress would enact a low-key tantrum for the rest of the day. Hisako took a deep breath and tapped the door with her knuckles and patiently waited. The silence was broken by a muffled call and a pair of feet clamouring lazily about. The heavy steps drew closer and the tell-tale rattle of the lock-chain sliding off made Hisako step back to properly present herself as a representative of Nakiri Erina when the door swung open.

"Yes, who is— Huh? Arato-san?".

Magenta eyes met cobalt blue.

"Good afternoon Mitsunaga-san". Hisako fell into secretary mode.

The reason for her visit offered no greetings much to her chagrin but seemed paralysed in his own little word. Weirdo. His owlish and yet startling blue eyes remained unmoving and directed straight at her as he just stood in the doorway like a fool, not displaying any indication to invite her inside his home. Inhospitable weirdo. His hair was a bird's nest and it was spiking up all to one side of his head as if he was sleeping on the other side against a sofa arm-rest, and his raven strands were stuck like that. He was in his home clothes and it comforted the rosette haired _Tootsuki_ student to see that he was actually as untidy and unkempt as she thought all males were. His white t-shirt was thin and faded with lots of wear and was greying in most parts. Loose threads and tattered hems were a plenty. It hung off his tall and trim frame like drapes, floating slightly in the draft. He had donned simple black track pants low on his hips, which also looked like it belongs in a charity bin. It was covered in fields of lint, all rolled up into little balls like an abandoned cotton field. He was also barefooted. Hisako's patience started to wear thin as she could no longer wait for him to fulfill his part of the formalities and cleared her throat resolutely.

"May I come in?".

His face snapped to attention.

"Oh! Yeah… Um please…".

Mitsunaga quickly diverted his eyes and swiftly slid out of the way, holding the door open. Hisako crossed the threshold into the warm home and immediately shed her autumn jacket. She quietly removed her shoes and placed it neatly at the apartment _genkan._ Huh, the _genkan_ was bigger than expected for an apartment. She briefly caught Mitsunaga shuffling out of the way from the corner of her eyes, probably gone to prepare some tea or snacks. When Hisako finally looked up, her breath exited her body in one fell swoop.

' _This? They live in THIS?!'._

Her brain stuttered like a dog caught between sausages or steaks, trying to process exactly what she was seeing. Hisako gulped and felt insecure all of a sudden, and resisted the urge to pinch herself. Okay… back-track… She wanted to get her bearings straight. She had already surmised that Mitsunaga Yozora was at _least_ from a well off family with some status in high society given that he was a _Tootsuki_ student and his school fees were always paid in full upfront.

' _His family can't be this wealthy… can it?'._

The only downside was that he was a video game music fanatic... Finally he was seconded to be the new President of the no-name, low-budget RS called _The Guild_ who were usually the centre of an unflattering rumour or two once in a while, but nobody really wanted to waste their breath on them _._ Hisako Arato had never felt the need to know more than that. However… the strange and elusive student started to appear in the spotlight more, and more, and more! She found out that he constantly listened to video-game music for all of his cooking! Challenges, assignments, class practicum, _shokugeki,_ everything! She had no clue why on Earth for and found it completely asinine. But he had demonstrated some unorthodox and serious skills in the _Rapport Building Training Camp_ that coloured Chef Inui was that impromptu underground _Shokegeki_ with Erina-sama too. Her mistress was tight-lipped and peeved about it for some time, which was saying _a lot_ and Hisako had never seen Erina-sama so bothered and flustered _._ Then just yesterday there was the curve-ball result for his preliminary-round curry dish for the _Autumn Elections_.

People were _talking_ about Mitsunaga Yozora and _The Guild._

"Is _genmaicha_ okay?".

"Sure". Hisako said absentmindedly.

His oddities and his open willingness to befriend the rag-tag group of Polar-Star Dorm residents and that boat-rocking diner chef Yukihira Souma had dropped her standards for him a fare bit. She was then inclined to believe that maybe he didn't come from a family as high-up and probably had slightly below-average pedigree compared to the average _Tootsuki_ student. She didn't sense any tension or friction between the two students with their significantly wide social class gap. Therefore the gap probably wasn't as wide as she thought.

His apartment looked more like a penthouse.

Now she knew _exactly_ where to put him on the social ladder once and for all.

Hisako crept further in and stood on the carpet, not knowing where to settle herself. The sound of freshly boiled water being poured into ceramic cups was louder than the awful harmonica melody square dancing out from somewhere. Hisako couldn't find the source. It seemed to suffuse through the air and surround her at all angles, as if it had always been a part of the breathable atmosphere with no point of origin. It was almost disturbing. Fortunately her eyes' search weren't in vain and they settled on a set of huge surround sound speakers. They stood on glossy metal stands on either side of the super-wide LED flat screen which was mounted on the white walls. She spotted other futuristic looking speakers fixed into the cornices of the ceilings, angled perfectly to catapult the sounds into the acoustic sweet spot.

' _Is this… blues?'._

This tune should be played in a Western American roadhouse. Despite sounding so peppy and happy, it did nothing for her pep and was borderline annoying. If that Polar Star Tadokoro-san was a Texan or an American red-neck, she would approve of this country-bumpkin taste in music. Hisako certainly did not and she wished she had the power to telepathically switch it off. She was so glad that Mitsunaga had the foresight to set it on very low volume because she was sure the rest of the apartment residents wouldn't put up with it and would rally together to bang on his door to turn off that ear-grating country-hick tune if they hadn't already. She thanked _Kami-sama_ for her self-control and decorum.

Mitsunaga Yozora sure had eclectic tastes in music.

He returned, still barefooted, into the living room area with a tray balancing two cups of steaming hot tea and biscuits. Hisako immediately zeroed in on his right hand which was grasping the wooden handles along with his left. Hisako held her breath and was ready to pounce and help at the slightest tilt or imbalance. She scrutinised carefully as he brought it across smoothly to the living area. His countenance betrayed nothing and it was as if the white bandages around his knuckles and the painful injury didn't exist to him.

"Have a seat".

He tilted his head towards the sofa for her to sit on and Hisako settled onto the white leather three-seater couch and crossed her knees together. It immediately struck her that it was Italian leather! She would recognise the expensive feel and yield straightaway from spending a lot of time at Erina-sama's manor. Mitsunaga slid the tray onto the glass coffee table, pushing away four sets of gaming controllers to the other side and gestured for her to help herself. He slumped into the matching arm-chair to her right and spread his knees apart. Hisako internally scoffed at the four black pieces of technology crowding the coffee table. Two of them had black wires stuck in which lead all the way to the long and sleek entertainment unit beneath the large television screen. They were predictably plugged into a gaming console. _Kami-sama…_ there were three different ones. Beneath them were crammed full of different video games titles in their plastic boxes. They lined up neatly like little soldiers and some of them were shoved above to fill in the gaps. It was as if there was no such thing as enough video games for Mitsunaga because there was a whole bunch more littered across the floor, or stacked up against the surround-sound system.

' _Urgh… boys'._

"How is your hand?". She asked politely. She'd wait until the tea cooled down enough to be drinkable.

A soft smirk slid onto his face.

"It's going okay". He raised it and wiggled his fingers at her. "The school doctor put a strict order not to do anything that involved my right hand for a week. He's being over-cautious because I over-used it a bit in the preliminary challenge. He's going to ask the _Autumn Elections Committee_ to push back my participation for _The Round of Sixteen_ to the fourth day so my hand can lay off as much as possible. Looks like I might not be drawn from the random lot until the last day". He chuckled.

"That also puts you in a bad position. Not practicing any cooking for _six_ days".

"Double-edged sword. But I'm still going to cook no matter what. I'll find a way" he deadpanned. He leaned back into the arm chair.

"So you're going to disobey the doctor?". Hisako raised her brow.

He turned to look at her with the same damning smirk on his face before giving away to a bored yawn. His piercing eyes dialed down to a dull azure as if he was yearning for sleep. He just shrugged.

"That's probably expected for someone like you". She muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?".

There was a pregnant pause and Hisako realised her first mistake. His face settled into a blank canvas. Steel-blue slid to hers. Calculating for her response. Daring her to keep going. Maybe she could salvage this!

"I-I mean", she fumbled for the right words, "you sounded like this isn't the f-first time you're dealing with something like a-a uhh… hand injury… that's all. It's just that…", Hisako had one foot in the grave already, "… maybe you seemed so sure that you know you'll get over it in time or something?".

Oh _Kami-sama!_ Please blink! Why didn't he bloody blink!? The deafening silence was killing her. A small twitch of his lips made her unbearably nervous. Did he catch her out? Erina-sama would never forgive her! It was probably too late to school her expression to show how collected she was, but darn it she tried. She'd never done this before! Asking questions and conversing with a labelled 'boat-rocker' was hard. Anything could happen and now she was paying the price for a slip of the tongue. Hisako smoothed her plaid school skirt against her thigh and tried to play it cool. She waited for his judgement with bated breath. He exhaled through his nostrils and they flared as he kept his eyes trained on her.

"You're right. This…", he held up his bandaged hand again, "…isn't something unfamiliar to me".

Hisako was rather perplexed mixed with relieved. Surely he didn't mean punching people in the face was a regular occurrence! Hisako could almost smack herself when she realised he meant straining his hand. Her limited knowledge on Mitsunaga was starting to become a barrier in her endeavours to find out more why Erina-sama seemed to be taken with him. She was inclined to think Erina-sama was paying extra attention to him because she merely felt bad or felt indebted to him, but her behaviour these past months didn't exactly match. Hisako would always be eternally grateful that he saved her from a those awful men, but she wasn't about to let him know that. Hisako thought ever since that incident, Erina-sama behaved much more strangely. How she carried out her duties remained at peak performance but it was just the way her mind seemed to… stray more often towards _The Guild._ She would make a ubiquitous comment about them, somehow twist a conversation to be about them, ask innocent questions about them and suddenly get angry about them for no set off alarms in the medicinal chef and Hisako knew specifically _who in_ _The Guild_ was eating up in Erina-sama's thoughts.

"What has Nakiri told you about me? My past specifically".

"E-Eh? Nothing! I-I don't know what you're alluding to".

He quirked his brow as if to say: ' _Really? We're doing this?'._ It took three painful moments for Hisako to give up the act. She conceded and grumbled.

"She said before you came to _Tootsuki,_ you were a professional musician. Your expertise was in classical music".

Time came to a stand-still. Mitsunaga's eyes lost their usual acuity and he finally nodded his head in the direction just slightly behind her. Hisako furrowed her brows, a tad confused at his leading gesture. He continued to look past her as if she didn't exist anymore and the rosette haired student followed his gaze. She grasped the back of the sofa to help her twist around.

' _Woah'._

Sat a fair way behind her in a large alcove facing the window was a baby-grand piano! It stood there pitch black and at the centre of attention and yet she missed it entirely when she was busy criticising his living room when she first came in. Its keyboard cover was down, but the lid on the back part was open and propped up by a polished rod. It gleamed in the sun proudly and then Hisako pieced the puzzle together.

"You are a classical pianist?!".

" _Was"._

Hisako snapped her mouth shut. Oh. Erina mentioned that he was intent on not talking about any more than that. She said something about a _locked quest_ but it didn't mean anything sensible to her so they dropped it. Curiously, his school file also didn't mention the prior school, education or profession before he transitioned into _Tootsuki_ somewhere in the middle school division _._ It was marked as 'sealed'. It was for the higher ups of _Tootsuki_ to know? What's so secretive about being a classical pianist that part of his student file had Director Senzaemon-sama's _hanko_ stamp to declare that, that information was _sealed?_

"My hand will heal fast. It has before".

"Before?".

"Yep. This isn't as bad as it looks. I used to practice at least six-hours a day, every day, especially before a concert. All of us did because we're all arse-hole _perfectionists_ which is like a real-life trope for classical pianists. Except I played at a professional capacity even though I was still a middle schooler. Our upper body fine motor skills, coordination, reflexes, flexibility, rhythm, range, strength and endurance in our hands, arms, shoulders and wrists are a hell of a lot higher than non-musicians. We trained like athletes. Playing and practicing through the pain _no matter_ _what_ is what we did. Always breaking our limits and never stopping. And you know what? The more… _competitive_ … of us have a certain level of discipline, determination and drive that just exceeds everything and everyone including doctors' recommendations when we strive for _perfectionism_ ".

Hisako held her breath. Mitsunaga breathed in real slow. She watched him as those lucid orbs roved off. The hollow stillness was nothing but a shield for something locked deep inside of him. She could tell. Unreachable.

' _And if the body can't take it anymore…?'._

He nursed his phone in his hand before pocketing it. He rested the elbow of his good hand and plonked his chin on it. His other hand rested in his lap. The white bandaged covered the back of his hand and half his long fingers. They curled limply against his thighs. Hisako finally unburdened her tote bag from her shoulder and carefully placed it on the floor by her feet. Mitsunaga's hair was back to how they usually were now. It was ruffled towards the back and his fringed was haphazardly finger-combed to cover his forehead, but not get in the way of his eyes too much. He regarded her with an open and curious stare which made her shiver a bit and wished she still had her autumn coat on. Didn't he know staring was rude?

"Anyway… that's enough for a flashback. So what's up?".

Hisako blinked a few times and flushed. She looked away and cleared her throat. The obvious diversion was a clear blockade in the conversation. She wasn't going to get anymore out of him. He had allowed her to hear enough and it was already a lot to take in. Her inner anchor was momentarily suspended and fidgeted with her fingers until she remembered why she was sitting in his apartment in the first place. One thing was for sure. She made the right decision in coming to see him.

"I'm actually here on Erina-sama's behalf".

Mitsunaga's posture changed and he raised his head off the hand he was resting it on.

"I've made some food that would help heal your hand faster. So you won't be that disadvantaged again in the _Round of Sixteen_ ".

Hisako systematically pulled out a plastic rectangular food counter and a tall thermos from her tote bag. Mitsunaga immediately leaned forward and inspected the contents through the clear plastic. Hisako watched his expression acutely, taking not and documenting every twitch of his muscles. He was taken aback, as he should be. Okay, sure he had a handsome face now that she saw him more closely, but did that do anything to sustain Erina-sama's attention? The stoic teen's confusion and awe of Erina-sama's gift for him lingered as he appraised the box of food. Erina-sama was never good at hiding the inner working of her minds from her aide. It was the aide's job after all to tend to her mistresses every need, beck and call and make sure that her affairs and agendas as the Tenth Seater of the Elite Ten and as the Nakiri heiress were all met smoothly. Erina-sama had the toughest job resting on her young shoulders and she needed all the support Hisako could give her. One day, she would become the Emperor of the Culinary World.

Therefore in time, Hisako needed to anticipate and read her every move. She needed to understand everything Erina-sama wanted, needed even if she herself didn't. She wasn't happy with what she discovered from her mistress. Erina-sama's unconscious fixations, distant expressions, flushed cheeks and stiff body language whenever Mitsunaga was nearby…

Hisako did _not_ approve of Erina-sama's fascination with Mitsunaga Yozora.

' _He's not worthy of her attention'._

"Nakiri asked you to do this?".

"Yes. I've used part of my preparation and practicing time to make this. Erina-sama knows that my time is precious and has asked I sacrifice some of it for you. All my spare time is devoted to Erina-sama, but I'm happy to fulfill any of her requests, so you'd better be grateful of Erina-sama's kindness and my generosity".

"Wow, then you and Nakiri have my gratitude. No seriously, thanks a lot for this. Damn, this looks great!".

Hisako sighed.

"I've made some beef-shank and ginseng-stew. It's got Chinese celery, goji berries and kudzo root in it. This stew is excellent for tendonitis and muscle cramping. Beef has a warm-to-neutral effect on the body temperature balance so that will keep you from getting ill. The kudzo root is also good for tendon and muscles. It expels wind-heat and opens up the muscle layer to get rid of stiffness in joints and muscles. Ginseng is good for blood circulation so it will definitely help with the inflammation and swelling in your hand, and it will lessen the blood clots in the skin and the bruising significantly around your knuckles. Finally the Chinese celery has a 'cooling' effect and lowers blood pressure so it will help you relax if you've over-exerted yourself in anything. As long as you eat it, my stew's protective properties will strengthen the body and prevent further injury, alright?".

"I'll make sure that I consume every last drop".

"Finally, this is a special tea blend by Erina-sama's request". Hisako tapped the thermos. "It's liquorice root, fennel and peppermint tea. They all have pain-relieving and anti-inflammatory properties for quick-action healing".

Mitsunaga hummed and nodded. He opened the lid and grinned at the contents. Hisako had made stew similar to this on occasions. The only difference was, she had to tailour it to Mitsunaga's injuries. The box was probably about six portions, so it would last him about three to four days depending. She wanted to make sure that nuisances like this could be minimised if it couldn't be mitigated hence the _other_ reason for her visit.

"Is Ginsekai-san around?", asked Hisako.

"Um". Mitsunaga replaced the lid on the container and checked the time on his phone "He should be back soon, he stepped out to get som—".

" _I'm home!"._

The announcement carried across the spacious apartment with the intensity of a yodel. Hisako was jarred from her thoughts and she almost bowled over from the sheer exuberant ray of positivity flouncing around at the apartment entrance. He was so noisy! He banged, thudded and rustled everything within his immediate area. Ginsekai was wrapped from head to toe with jackets and scarves. He clomped around in thick boots and kicked them off with abandoned and they landed in a messy heap. He carried with him shopping bags that were over-flowing with food and it appeared they had to be double-bagged. He whipped his head and his beanie flew off and slid on the _genkan._ His bright blonde hair was messed and ruffled ridiculously and he seemed not to care. His blinding smile made irked Hisako and she tensed up, rising off the back-rest of the sofa until Gensekai noticed her.

"Guess what? I bumped into Yukihira-kun, Megumi-chan and Isshiki- _senpai_ outside DEF Kitchen on the way back. Did you know Polar Star is in cahoots with DEF Kitchen? Talk about Isshiki- _senpai_ hooking up his own _NPCs._ Also Yukihira-kun showed me pictures of the Polar Star Preliminaries after-party from last night. They think they're wild? Ha! They should see Tsurugi-senpai's _LAN_ parties".

Ginsekai spoke at the speed of light.

"Anyway, I saw a black limousine parked outside and thought it was your dad, but turns out it wasn't… Oh! Do we have guests, Yo-kun?", he called out eyeing her shoes at the _genkan._

Ginsekai answered his own question when he finally paid attention and looked up, still with a dopey smile on his face and a set of earphones snug in his ears. His baby-blue eyes practically popped out of his sockets and his pale skin reddened faster than she could say 'Run! Alice-sama is coming!' Ginsekai was too dramatic as he yelped ungainly and recoiled from the sight of her sitting with his friend on their sofa at the coffee table, using his bulky shopping to shield his scrawny body.

"Eh?! There's a _girl_ in our apartment!".

Hisako fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Hayato-kun, This is Arato Hisako. Nakiri's aide", replied Mitsunaga.

"Y-Yeah, I know that…um… hey how's it going?".

The hapless teen didn't wait for a return-greeting and just scurried to the kitchen and fluffed around with putting the groceries away. He wasn't doing a good job of it as things were toppling over and he moved around like a dodgem car. Hisako then noticed that there was actually space for a small professionally designed kitchen. If the kitchen island wasn't cluttered with… _kami-sama… more video game paraphernalia_ , Hisako refused to go too deep into it, she would be very impressed with the high quality smoky grey granite counter. Upon further inspection, Mitsunaga's and Ginsekai's kitchen were fitted with high-end white goods and stainless steel appliances! It was a shame that their two-door fridge and their microwave were slathered in magnets with different caricatures which she couldn't begin to fathom what they were except something related to video-games. The modern kitchen was surprisingly clean too. All the utensils were on hooks, their tea-towels were folded and draped over the oven handle and the ceramic floor tiles were spotless. She had a hard time believing that these two teenage _boys_ could independently clean up after themselves. Did they have a cleaner come in regularly?

"Arato-san came by to check up on me and give me some food to help my hand", explained Mitsunaga, but Ginsekai seemed to be too absorbed in his tasks.

"Uh, okay?". He eeped. He looked towards his friend beseeching for more information but Mitsunaga was too occupied with his phone to notice.

"Ginsekai-san are you free this afternoon?", asked Hisako, getting up from the sofa and approaching the kitchen.

" _What?!"_ the buffoon dropped his bag of oranges as he was about to unload them into the fruit bowl. His cheeks were flushed crimson. "Uh, yeah I am?… Why?".

Ginsekai's rising inflection at the end of every sentence annoyed the hell out of her. He was never like this towards the opposite sex at school! He interacted with the female Polar-Star Dorm residents just fine from what she'd observed in class, but that was in a school setting. Do they never have a female visitor or something?!

"I need to teach you how to make the same special type of medicinal beef-shank stew for Mitsunaga-san", said Hisako.

She walked over to the kitchen and Ginsekai stopped shrinking away from her. She could tell that he was still jittery and awkward and this made her feel so much more in control. Their grocery items were pretty stocked standard. There was meat, vegetables, fruit and other ordinary condiments. For some reason, she thought they would be filled with junk-food. His demeanor changed drastically at the mention of 'medicinal cooking' and 'Mitsunaga's hand'.

"Y-Yeah, that sounds fine. I could make that for him. When do you want to start?".

"How about now?", asked Hisako.

"J-Just give me a second. I'll get changed".

Ginsekai finally relaxed and his hyperactivity disappeared. All of a sudden he didn't seem that annoying anymore either. Suddenly he stopped and turned around thinking for second. His smile shot up to a million watts and pumped his arms into the air.

"Hey Yo-kun, is that a loop of _**Track Sixteen?**_ Crank it up!".

"You got it!".

She took that back! Mitsunaga dived for the surround sound system remote and the ear-splitting harmonica and banjo sky-rocketed and was smothering her with tumble weeds. She swore that if she closed her eyes, she could see a stout, moustached cowboy tipping his broad-rimmed hat at her from atop his speckled steed mumbling 'Howdy miss' before spitting his tobacco into a spittoon. The dangerously catchy song continued to stake itself in her brain and she knew it would take weeks for her to purge it for good. Mitsunaga kicked back in his snuggled spot on the arm-chair and continued scrolling up and down his phone. Ginsekai emerged from the sleeping quarters in his home clothes and an apron. His puppy-dog eyes glittered, ready for instructions. They were going to cook in this awful din?

' _I hate this song!'._

 _._

 _._

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* * *

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 _._

 _ **Round of Sixteen – Day One**_

"Mitsunaga-kun! Ginsekai-kun! Over here!".

Yozora pulled his headphone down over his neck and spotted three hands waving at him. He smiled and offered a stationary wave. He could never get tired with Polar Star's enthusiasm. It was so heart-warming. The Polar Star dorm crew were front and centre with the best vantage point in _Heaven's Moon Arena_. The whole gang was there excluding Isshiki- _senpai_. Mito-san joined them too. On beat, Hayato-kun zoomed behind Yozora and shoved him in front, desperate not to get close to 'his stars and moon'. Yozora internally sighed and shot Hayato-kun a serious look but the boy was already sweating and his teeth were chattering. Oh well. He'd leave it. The stadium lights were hot against his skin and the swarming murmurs of hundreds of students were getting his blood pumping. The grand arena was quickly filled with a quiet excitement and the crowd was eager for clashes between young talents.

Yukihira Souma was competing today.

He had no clue who the red-head's opponent was since it was all determined by random lots the day before yesterday. He only found out this morning that Yukihira was on today when Yoshino-san texted him whilst he was chowing down on Arato's beef-shank ginseng stew for breakfast. That recipe was amazing! The tension and stiffness in his hand and knuckles dissolved like cotton-candy in water. He felt so revitalised and empowering. His motivation and inner energy ballooned and over-took his fatigue and he felt like a totally knew person. Under the bandages, he could see the swelling was dampened and the purple-yellow blotches had faded a lot. His fingers were fast regaining their strength and mobility. Yesterday, he could play a quick round of _Halo 2_ without feeling the burn and didn't button-mash _once_. Then this morning before he and Hayato-kun left, he managed Schurbert's Impromptu in G-flat Op. Ninety, Number Three on his baby-grand with no hitches. All the kinks he had built up in his sixteen years of life had miraculously straightened out too.

All that because of the magic stew.

He was touched Nakiri was willing to spare her aide for him.

" _Ladies and gentlemen! Attention please! We apologise for the long wait. But we will begin now, the first Round of Sixteen match of this year's Autumn Elections!"._

Yozora switched off his headphones entirely. Yoshino-san and the two muscly guys of Polar Star brandished their flag proudly cheering at the tops of their lungs. Yozora grinned and whooped and cheered alongside them, swept up in the adrenaline rush.

"Look! Here he comes!".

Hayato-kun threw himself at the railing and pointed down at the tiny beam of light emerging from a set of massive double doors. Finally a thin figure emerged out, casting a looming shadow onto the floor. His gleeful cackles of excitement warmed Yozora's heart and he hollered as loud as he could.

" _Yukihira Souma!"._

'Yukihira' was still a name the _Tootsuki_ population and their faculty were getting used to. If he was correct, then nobody of real importance had properly heard of him until a couple of days ago when he, himself and Kurokiba Ryou all tied in second place to Hayama in the curry challenge. He could hear the unsure and skeptical voices conspiring behind him. It was rare for an unheralded student to get into the main event but Yozora was sure that no matter who he was competing against, Yukihira Souma would still go pretty far. Yozora smirked. It looked like the red-headed maverick chef was finally getting his dues.

Yukihira and himself had been getting a lot of public interest since the preliminaries according to Kasai- _senpai_. The Nobody from the Diner and the _Otaku_ from the lowest rank RS. Much to his embarrassment, his name gained a little bit more notoriety that Yukihira's. It was all because Nakiri made a spectacle out of the whole _Tootsuki_ population when she dragged him away from the judging panel in the most outlandish way. Oh _kami-sama._ It was only a matter of time until he saw his face smeared in the pages of the _Tootsuki Report._ Thinking about Nakiri throwing off her mantle of propriety to get him to the school doctor still made him pause and cause his face to tingle. Hmm… he still hadn't heard or read his feedback for his dish. He didn't even know if anybody else caught wind of the full story aside from Polar Star and the other _Round of Sixteen_ competitors.

"So who's he up against? Please don't let it be someone big like Arato Hisako", said Mito-san.

"Hey look! The door to the other side is opening!".

"Who's it gonna be? Who's it gonna be?!".

Yozora narrowed his eyes.

" _IT'S NAKIRI ALICE!"._ Daigo-san screamed. _"No way! He has to go up against a Nakiri?! SOUMA-KUN IS FUCKED!"._

Yozora took a step back and analysed the situation. Nakiri Alice was a higher level and she packed serious shit. The tall Scandinavian beauty strutted through the doors with a majestic and confident smile. She daintily waved at her grandfather, Director Senzaemon-dono in the illustrious VIP judging stands. Yozora had heard that seven years ago, she won the molecular gastronomy's most prestigious competition. She had to be less than ten years old that time. Nakiri Alice then went on to win all the awards there was to win. By the time she _did_ turn ten, she had successfully obtained forty-five patents and was contracted with over twenty different restaurants for research into new menu items. She was Molecular Gastronomy's prodigal child. A certified genius. Of all the first year students in _Tootsuki_ , no one could refute that she was the one closest to being named to the Elite Ten. There was plenty for Yozora to be envious of the Danish Nakiri. For starters, the whole tractor-tailers filled to the brim with cutting-edge appliances just rolled in like it was nothing. Imagine having someone like that as one of their _NPCs_. Damn, she could open a lot of doors for his RS if they had her signature on their _quest docket._ She had the tools and the skills to slaughter anyone in her path. It gave Yozora the shivers.

' _Yet Yukihira looks so zen. He has no idea what he's up against…or does he… How much pressure are you really under right now… Yukihira'._

" _The theme for this first round is_ _ **bentou**_ _. Contestants, you have two hours. Begin cooking!"._

Yoshino-san's demands for Marui-san to explain what every single piece of tech in Nakiri Alice's trailer fizzled out of his recognition. He observed calmly as she pulled out stuff that looked like it belonged in a laboratory and started doing something that looked like a chemistry experiment. He had no idea over half of what she was doing but what he _did_ recognise was her extraordinary knife skills. He was a sucker for knives. Yozora turned his eyes to Yukihira who was staring at Nakiri Alice with immense interest. Knowing the red-head… he must have a trick up his sleeve.

His eyes trailed off.

' _Ah, so that's where she is'._

Down below near where Nakiri Alice had emerged was the second Nakiri female standing there like a sculpted piece of artwork. She was just off to the side of the entrance surrounded by her own aloofness. She had the posture of a ballet dancer, strong, erect and graceful. He got up.

"Going somewhere?", asked Hayato-kun.

"I'll be back. Save my seat".

"Huh?".

Yozora ignored his best friend and slipped out of the row of seat and into the exit.

She was alone. Perfect.

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* * *

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Erina flicked her hair out of the way.

Alice was much too cocky. Erina liked to think she had a healthy amount of pride and arrogance. She wasn't ashamed. If she had it, she would flaunt it. As long as one had the skill to back up one's claims then they had every right to bask in their success and glory and let everyone know about it. But Alice made showing-off look tasteless. She was melodramatic, carried on like a broken record and was too childish. It was exhausting just talking to her. On the other hand; _she_ used it only when she needed it to put others in their place. One word out of turn against her family or herself and she would let them have it with no apologies.

Like all Nakiri children, they were brought up with a belief that they were superior to everyone else by virtue of their birth. It was true anyway.

" _Hey"._

Her heart did a little skip. Erina whipped her head around knowing full well who was approaching. He emerged from the shadows and slowly into the light. His school uniform looked worse for wear. His tie was pulled low and his woolen school vest was rumpled. The sleeves of his wrinkled school shirt were pushed to his elbow revealing sinewy arms. His apathy towards his personal grooming and presentation was eye-roll worthy but for some reason there was a nonsensical appeal to it. She literally couldn't imagine Mitsunaga Yozora being all clean pressed and immaculate at all. His dark raven hair was ruffled as if from a good night's sleep, the strands sticking together in the way they do when a wash was overdue. They fell partially over his eyes, but most were raked back behind his ears revealing those piercing depths of cobalt blue eyes looking only at her. His hands were in his pockets and his signature headphones rested over his neck. Erina kept her surprise to a minimal and her nod-in-greeting was casual with no hint of hesitation.

She couldn't let him know his presence made her chest tingled.

"Mitsunaga-kun". She acknowledged, before turning her attention back to her cousin on the stadium.

"You're not in the viewing box?".

"No. Isshiki- _senpai_ is there and I'm not keen on listening to his running commentaries for the match". She replied flatly.

"Yeah I've heard him talk before. If he wasn't a chef, he'd be a passive aggressive life coach".

"What do you want?".

He stopped by her side, just short of touching her shoulders with his arm. Erina shot a look at their close proximity, about to say something about it but dropped it. Then she heard the scuffle of feet as Mitsunaga shifted his centre of gravity to one leg. She turned her head to see him twist his lips as if grasping with a hard math problem. His shoulders slouched as if it took so much effort to be upright.

"I saw from up there". He jabbed his thumbs towards the noisiest part of the stands. "I came down to say thanks for sending Arato-san my way. For the stew and tea".

"It was nothing". She blurted.

His voice had melted into a rough croak before he coughed and cleared his throat at the same time. He raised his hand and raked it up and down through his hair. A gentle draft blew through the tunnel and Erina was caught in a storm of his scent. Her head slowly drifted in his direction. She bit her lip as the mature lemony citrus scent along with fresh rainstorm graced her. She didn't realise how tamed it it was for her until now. But when his eyes found hers again, she swiftly turned away pretending nothing happened. Erina took that opportunity to inspect his right hand out of the corner of her eye. It was wrapped in new bandages but she figured it was much better than before.

" _But"._

Ack.

His intonation gave her goose-bumps. _But?_ The creepy drawl spoke of a ghoulish knowledge that he knew something. Trepidation skated over her skin. His eyes were unrelenting! Damn it! Now she couldn't concentrate on Alice's and Yukihira's match with him being here! Staring was like his way of communicating on its own or something. Challenging. Thirst for a contest. The first to blink or turn away would lose. Erina had learned to read what his eyes were saying since she was the receiving end of it more times than she was comfortable. They rested, not blinking but slowed. But this time, the effect was soft and inviting instead of penetrating and invasive. Perhaps it was his lips that gave away his intention, not quite smiling but tilting as if they meant to.

He dipped his head towards her until it crowded her vision.

"Hey!".

She backed away immediately. The delicate muscles at the corners of his lips pulled further until it was a full blown smirk. Her cheeks flared up at the close proximity. Her heart leapt into her mouth and choked her words of indignation from being caught in a tight spot with Mitsunaga all up in her face like a gorilla fascinated with its first human encounter. Erina tried to shirk him off without touching by sliding away, but there wasn't much to slide to because her shoulders hit the stadium wall! A large hand stretched forward and planted itself against the cold concrete beside her head and the rest of Mitsunaga's body completed the journey and stood toe-to-toe with her, towering over her smaller frame.

 _'Kabedon?!'._

Months of reading _shoujou_ manga had fine-tuned Erina's spider-senses to notice ridiculous courting displays all Japanese working-class girls yearned for in their love-interest. The 'hand on the wall'. It was supposed to be a flirtatious move right? A display of romantic love, passion and desire as the male asserts their power and dominance over a female without touching them? Her heart hammered her sternum as Yozora was unwittingly doing one of those said frivolous acts to her and she couldn't help but feel the little girl inside was getting caught up in the moment and was all giddy! She fought the endorphic sensations cascading through her veins and _beat_ that little girl back into her box, before steeling herself. She crossed her arms tighter around her and craned her neck up to sneer at him, silently ordering him to shove-off. His gaze held a sneaky mirth. Since when did this fool get so insolent?!

 _"Did you get the information you wanted, Nakiri?"._

Erina gasped.

Crap! He found out! No wonder why Hisako seemed so frustrated and perturbed when she debriefed and offered her results the day before yesterday. She had underestimated Mitsunaga's acuity and now he probably thought she was snooping around and was disgustingly nosy like The Barista! Erina grinded her teeth, refusing to admit defeat. Her rosy cheeks sweltered in her embarrassment. Mitsunaga was merciless as he continued to drill holes into her head and cornering her in the dark against the wall was not helping!

' _It's his fault for being so opaque'._

It killed her pride to ask Hisako for these two favours. Erina had not only asked Hisako to cook something nourishing for Mitsunaga to help heal his hand, she also specifically asked her to… scope him out… Where did he come from? Who were his family? Why was he in _Tootsuki_? Why did he stop being a classical pianist? She had disguised it as the desire to fulfill the gaps in his student file which was mysteriously sealed in some parts. It was humiliating thinking about it but once she pulled the thread and she was addicted to keep going. Nakiri's did not spy. On occasions, they hired them, _but they did not spy_. So the closest thing she could do was get Hisako to go on a fact-finding-mission while delivering her medicinal cooking. It was easy to get the address from his file. All Hisako had to do was visit his apartment, infer from its interiors, strike up probably a harmless conversation with Mitsunaga and hopefully steer it in a way that would make him unconsciously reveal more about himself, something like that. Guilt bit at nipped at her heels but she kicked it away.

She had to know.

Maybe if she finally solved Mitsunaga Yozora, these questionable feelings for him would stop. Erina pulled her lips back and snarled. He tilted his head teasingly at her. Damn it. He was too close but she didn't lift a single finger to push him away.

"Arato-san can't make 'digging' look like 'casual inquiry' to save her life. Her agenda was pretty obvious when she slipped up. That's when I figured she was probably doing it for you".

Erina's discontent was at an all-time high. Her stomach turned rigid. She felt her spirit sink to nothingness. The jig was up now, but she would leave with her head held high. She would make herself look even worse if she kept denying and deflecting the truth like a child. She pushed the conversation forward, away from her unravelled plan.

"Was it repetitive strain injury that made you leave the music world? I heard that musicians can get it if they practiced too hard. And if it's serious enough, it could end their career, right?".

He chuckled. Erina searched for his face hidden by the shadows and his fringe. He finally removed himself from her personal bubble and crossed his arms together as he swivelled away to watch the first round from beside her. The lack of his warmth was chilling.

"Nah it's not that. I've had repetitive strain injury before, but it wasn't enough to put me out of action. I recovered with physiotherapy. After that, I just learned how to take better care to prevent and mitigate any hand injuries or strains".

"Yes and you demonstrated that oh so clearly".

He gave her the side-eye and Erina returned it with her driest look. He teased her again by shutting up completely as he observed Yukihira's and Alice's match. What the hell was wrong with this boy?! He had a penchant for dangling things in her face and taking it back for his own amusement. Did he enjoy trying to make a fool out of her? Whatever! Two could play at that game. Erina clicked her tongue with disapproval and threw up her shield, thick with disinterest in him and returned her attention back to the stadium, keeping a wide birth from him. Her concentration and focus failed to meet its quota as Erina's hyperawareness for the tall and lanky student beside her refused to depart.

Alice had finally finished her winning dish. Five mysterious mist-filled _bentou_ boxes. Alice loved to produce outlandish and futuristic dishes. Erina could see from here that it had a lovely presentation eminently fit for this setting. Erina knew better to think that the liquid nitrogen gas was just cosmetic. Like all things, it served a useful purpose. Alice probably wanted to keep something chilled and fresh for maximum taste. The judges' curiosity looked piqued. One by one they removed the cloche and plumes of liquid nitrogen gas dispersed. Exquisite gemstones marched into view.

 _Temarizushi._

Alice was blabbering away at how great she was and how sophisticated her creation was to the judges. They ate the morsels and were immediately surrendered to their basic primal urges and inhaled the rest to Alice's glee. Erina had tasted some of Alice's cooking before. She really was a once-in-a-generation genius in her field. Her skills lived up to the great weight of her Nakiri name as her dishes continually stirred both wonder and delight in those who taste them. The satisfaction her dishes brought was akin to the most lavish banquets from the most luxious _ryokan._

Of course, _Ojii-sama_ disrobed.

She had seen enough. Alice would win as she was destined to. She turned on her heels.

"You're not staying to watch Yukihira-kun's judging?".

Erina scoffed. "I know Alice's victory is sealed and I have better things to do".

"What makes you so sure, Nakiri?".

Erina rolled her eyes. Okay, she would humour him. She returned back to the entrance of the tunnel and pointed at Alice.

"She has put all of the very best of her technical knowledge into her _bentou._ Her belief is that cooking is an art that is honed and she had gone to great lengths to hone it to _perfection_. She is one of the few who have mastered _taste_. She is a _tensai._ She possesses a wealth of knowledge and experience in the elite culinary arts and molecular gastronomy, the Mother Nature of cooking. Someone like Yukihira-kun who relies on ad-libbing circus tricks doesn't stand a chance against Alice at this level. The most important thing about _bentou_ is taste, Mitsunaga-kun. Even _you_ should know that. Pseudo-psychological whimsy like _heart_ or _spirit_ in cooking has no value in _haute cuisine"._

"Are you telling an ex-classical musician that _expression_ and _feeling_ are irrelevant in a final piece that's designed to heighten and enrich the human senses and experience?".

Erina whipped back around to see Mitsunaga's frigid smile just for her. Then he nodded towards the stadium.

She followed his gaze.

 _Impossible!_

Erina couldn't believe her eyes. She gawked at her solidly fit grandfather who sat proudly showing his delineated muscles for all eyes to see. When did that happen?! _Ojii-sama's_ disrobing was a monumental occurrence. The Demon Food King of Japan was a particularly hard person to impress because of his notoriety. Should anyone manage to impress him, he would strip off the top half of his _yukata_ as a clear sign. There was too much shock in one day and she refused to believe that maybe… _just maybe…_ Yukihira could actually defeat her cousin. Erina stepped forward to get a closer look, leaving Mitsunaga behind.

 _Nori Bentou._

The other four judges were digging into his cheap bentou with breath-taking gusto. They actually liked it? Hang on! It still didn't have the eye-catching visual impact and flashy plating as Alice did. Its presentation was way too plain. And yet… their pleasure in this _bentou_ was a picture of pure ecstasy, joy and youthfulness. Playful, even. She watched as Yukihira's unusual _bentou_ was like the gift that kept on giving. It was opening an extraordinary number of compartments one after the other and kept adding to it much to the judges' delight. Yukihira's _bentou_ was mutating before her eyes. If the judges could open their mouths any wider, they could swallow the whole _bentou,_ box and all. They munched and chewed with abandon, treating the arena with a view of partially masticated food. They gulped it down without pause for breath and took more shovelfuls of rice and _nori_ food. The judges looked like they were having fun.

' _This is another one of Yukihira's tricks. Nothing more'._

Mitsunaga stepped forward and joined her side again.

"All your cousin did was plop her current skills into a container for the judges to lap up because she thinks how she is _now_ is still enough to blow the judges away. She could've done the exact same dish for a _sushi_ theme. She has hubris, not pride. Her understanding of what she is supposed to _perform for the audience_ is superficial. Even though she has the _perfect_ skill… the _perfect_ technique … and the _perfect_ execution… and probably is the pinnacle of _perfectionism_ in her field, she fails to give the audience a _true_ experience. Something that new. Something that calls to them… inspires them… _changes them_ ".

" _Handeth me mine brush!"._

" _Yes, Nakiri-dono!"._

 _._

 _._

Erina bit her quivering lip.

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"Yukihira-kun's cooking is full of flaws, contradictions, passion, strength, vulnerability and numerous failures… because of that _it tells an evolving story that touches the heart._ The same as _music"._

She refused to react to Mitsunaga.

The wistful laughter bursting from the judges as they chattered while they ate was so unfamiliar and so out of place under the gravitas of the _Heaven's Moon Hall._ What were they talking about? It didn't sound like they were critiquing Yukihira's _nori bentou_ anymore. What else was compelling the esteemed men to turn to each other and smile so joyously and carry-on loud and laugh-filled conversations like that? What were they telling each other?

"Stories aren't _perfect_ like molecular gastronomy, and that's what makes them more _meaningful_ to the audience. Because humans aren't perfect either. It also encourages others to _re-live their own unique stories_ and these values are precisely why— _"._

.

.

" _For the first Round of Sixteen match, I hereby declare the winner is…!"._

.

.

"—Yukihira will win".

.

.

Erina fisted her hands.

.

.

A soft vibrating sound split her attention. Mitsunaga dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen's illumination drew her eyes. He swiftly declined the call but Erina saw the ID and imprinted to memory.

 _ **Tokyo Conservatoire and Symphony Orchestra.**_

Mitsunaga pocketed his phone without a word and returned his attention back to the stadium, as if Japan's biggest, most famous and prestigious embodiment and institute of 'Music' trying to reach him meant absolutely nothing to the gamer-chef. Erina felt a resurgence of hope and success, that she had a small but significant glimpse into his fortified heart.

Then, as if his mind had transported him to a different realm where _Tootsuki_ didn't exist, Mitsunaga lifted both his hands and slowly extended it outwards. He spread his fingers gently, but not fully outstretched. It looked like he was going to play on an imaginary piano. But none of his fingers pressed a single imaginary key.

.

.

"And if you've … realised it too late… that's because _perfectionism has already killed you from the inside"._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

" _Fanden!"._

Alice's furious outburst ricocheted off the concrete walls of the tunnel. Its darkness welcomed her with open arms and wrapped its tendrils around her form whispering more insecurities into her vulnerable ears. She quieted her sniveling as much as possible as she retreated further into the blackness. Just because Yukihira Souma totally got lucky had one leg up on her now, it didn't mean that he had to rub it in her face! That smug and pitying smile did nothing for her except to make her anger boil over for such a mortifying defeat. Hot tears continued to trickle down her face scalding her skin and branding them with her failure. It wasn't over. Not by a long shot. She made it super-clear that the top seat of _Tootsuki_ would be hers! She wiped the back of her hand across her nose and eyes until she felt the reddening sting of abrasion.

' _Just you wait Yukihira Souma. I'll get you for this'._

 _Tonk_ _…_ _Tonk_ _…_ _Tonk_ _…_ _Tonk_ _…_

Alice lifted her eyes and peered into the darkness. He emerged like a ghoul, heavy footsteps announcing her _Beast's_ arrival.

 _"As usual, you dish was way too pretty, Mi'lady"._

Alice was too exasperated and wasn't in the mood. She was riding on her jealous fury and indignation. Ryou-kun's bleak black eyed her with disdain. His were the eyes of a hunter which were framed by the dispassionate face of an executioner. His muscled arms were steady as they carried his knife-case over his rippling shoulders. He was ready. His thick combat boots reverberated against the concrete floor, drowning out Alice's thoughts on Yukihira. When Ryou-kun was without his bandanna, he maintained a cool detachment to his targets but he was equally dangerous.

"It may be nice to look at but it lacks the power needed to cow the enemy into submission".

"You dare lecture me! Remember your place!".

Ryou-kun's cold gaze could freeze hell. His body was a coiled spring.

"You remember yours too. You still haven't beaten me in a single match".

"Why you—!".

Alice snapped her mouth shut and puffed out her cheeks and screamed with a closed mouth. It wouldn't do for her to actually let it loose at him right now. The tunnel was sure to make it echo far enough for Grandfather to hear. Ha! That was rich coming from him! If Ryou-kun was using cheap shots, so would she.

"Trying to lord over me, are we~ Who was it that tied second place with a no-name chef with an _injured hand_ _…_ Hmm?".

He halted.

She had really gone and done it now. She could see Ryou-kun had reached the breaking point of his patience with her. Oh yes, _she totally went there._ Nakiri Alice always had the last word. She had wrung out the juicy piece of info from Yukihira-kun when she had the chance. Right after the end of Block B's matches in the preliminaries, she had heard rumours that Erina had raced across Block A's stage like a harlot to bail out the President of that gaming-music RS thingy during the preliminaries. She didn't believe it at first because Erina would do no such thing! But more and more people were talking about it so she had to get to the bottom of the drama. Surprisingly Yukihira-kun was the perfect source as he was there and saw the whole thing. He had told her of his friend, Mitsunaga Yozora, President of _The Guild._ According to Yukihira-kun, Mitsunaga Yozora was a 'rad' chef who cooked and created recipes inspired by listening to 'sick gaming beats' and was a 'totally awesome gamer-chef'. Alice put a mental note to lend Yukihira-kun her _Japanese Dictionary_ so that he could learn to talk like a refined individual. He had continued to regale to her how Mitsunaga had been cooking the entire time _in pain_ with a barely functioning right hand. He had forgotten his medication, the _moron_. According to Yukihira-kun, he had decked some guy in the face on the weekend and almost broke his knuckles in the process, and it had something to do with Erina. Oh boy was she intrigued! The Yukihira said he witnessed Mitsunaga about to succumb to the pain at the very end when serving the judges and that was when Erina swooped in to be his saviour and raced him out of Block A to the school doctor. Who died and left their compassion in the will for the stuck-up heiress? Yet that gamer-chef still scored the same numbers as Ryou-kun with his curry dish.

"Nothing to say, Ryou-kun?".

She told Ryou-kun of this fact as soon as she found out just to see his reaction and she was not disappointed. He didn't take the news well. He exploded actually. The realisation that he couldn't beat a social outcast with a serious handicap sent him into a spiraling bloodlust. Ryou-kun's fingers curled tightly around the case handle, almost breaking it. Mitsunaga didn't know it, but Ryou-kun took it as a personal offense.

' _Mitsunaga Yozora… you've made Ryou-kun really, REALLY mad'._

There was a momentary flare of anger on his face at the mention of Mitsunaga, shrouded by the blackness of the tunnel, but Alice could sense the fire of fury and rage smouldering in the small narrowed eyes as he imperceptibly snarled just at the bright entrance of the tunnel before his name was called out. The tensing and untensing of his biceps and forearms made his veins pop like strangling vines. A venomous growl bubbled from his throat.

" _When his hand heals, I'll crush him fair and square."._

* * *

 **Barely any video game elements this time, but a quick detour into Yozora's classical music niche. Putting that aside, I'm starting to feel that gravitational pull to write the canon and I'm resisting with all my might to stay juuuuuuuust close enough.**

 **We know how Souma vs Alice and Ryou vs Megumi's matches went so I didn't want re-hash it. Instead, Erina gets another string to tug AND A KABEDON! The girl is approaching the rabbit hole and her heart is creeping onto her sleeve. Sending her medicinal cooking aide to Yozora deserves a reward in my books.**

 **Next is Day 2 of the Round of 16! So it's 2 matches per day, 2 and 1/2 hours cooking each & 1hour for judging + clean up + transition to next match + intermission altogether because everyone's arses are sore from sitting down so long. Therefore it's 3 hours for each segment making it a 7 hour day with no classes. Not to mention 1hour to prepare the arena and get the crowd seated, and 1 hour to usher everyone out and clean up the damn thing so that's an 9 hour day. Logistics. Gotta love them.**

 **OH MY GOD A PLETHORA OF COOKING SCENES TO WRITE. I've decided to showcase for the next few chapters new matches I've devised for people like Marui, Ibusaki, Ikumi etc because they need more loving. I want to bring the best out of them. I thought maybe readers don't really want to read the canon ones all over again.**

 **Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I hope to see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	11. Lestallum

_Chapter 11 - Lestallum_

* * *

 ** _Round of Sixteen - Day Two_**

' _This is it... This is it'._

Hayato's knees jigged up and down like a skinny tarantula dancing on the griddle. Listening to the arithmetic beats of the light percussions filled him with warmth. The variety of _arppegiated_ sequences flooded his blood, almost changing the beat of his heart matching it with its own. Hayato had always felt that he and _music_ had their own language where they spoke without words. His wireless earpieces splitted himself and his music from the normality of the outside word.

It was _supposed_ to anyway!

It was kind of hard when the biggest competition of his life was only minutes away and every eye in the school would be on him.

The waiting room was totally silenced by his chosen track. The vivid and lively bossa nova did the samba with each hair in his inner ear system. Hayato relished in the assortment mixes of shakers, upbeat guitar, and light piano. The Spanish-flavoured _**Track 35**_ blazed his blood with spicy vigour and yet the super-repetitiveness of the track was perfect for calming his nerves because of its predictability. Okay, okay, he just needed to keep psyching himself up until he made it onto his kitchen-stadium. Once he was behind his special griddle, he would be just fine and he could unleash himself. As they always say! _'New year, new you!'_. Hayato didn't like to admit that he was a sucker for motivational self-help garbage counsellors slather on their office walls, but some were more effective than what people thought. If saying it to himself worked, then he really had nothing to lose. He knew he could demonstrate his best _skill set_ today, but the suspense was killing him! He had been _grinding_ and _grinding_ to kingdom come for this day. He studied the shit out of _**Track 35**_. He nit-picked every single _semi_ - _quaver_ and _trill_ until the composition was laid bare like an autopsy on the metal slab under his bright lights.

Then his creation came to be.

Finally the day he'd been dreading was here and he couldn't halt down the bubbling quagmire from swallowing him whole despite everything. Everything hinged on what he would do this morning in front of the whole school and a carefully selected invitation of judges. Once he was done, it couldn't be undone. There were no _save points_ or _check points_ for this whole _Autumn Elections_. Hayato just couldn't think straight this morning! He had _glitched_ at least four times! He had put his spatula in the wrong pocket of his knife-case and then panicked when he couldn't find it. Kasai- _senpai_ looked at him like he was an idiot. Today could be the difference between bringing home pride to _The Guild_ and a shallow grave behind _Heaven's Moon Arena_ with all the other failures who couldn't reach _Tootsuki's_ standards.

Speaking of Kasai- _senpai_ , he was leaning against the wall with his smart phone, typing away with one hand, cool as an autumnal breeze. Nothing ever fazed him and Hayato-kun was so glad he was here to feed off his tranquil view in all his HD quality. Yo-kun moved in and out of his peripheral vision as he paced back and forth leisurely across the linoleum of the waiting room. His arms were tucked under his arm-pits and his shoulders were relaxed. There were was a single strand of his ear phone wire dangling out from his collar and Hayato-kun felt over the moon. That meant he was going to listen to _**Track 35**_ along with him! His best mate looked like he was sleep-walking and his eyes were glazed over. Well, nothing to do but to twiddle his thumb like in a _loading screen_ so… Everything from the way Yo-kun held himself, to the way he spoke this morning, to the look of unassailable confidence in his eyes said he could do it. What could Hayato do but believe him? Like all the other times, Hayato fell hard for this belief and that was that.

' _If can't let him down'._

Yukihira-kun was present too and sat on the other side of the coffee table with Aldini-kun. He had squeezed himself beside the elder Aldini, much to his displeasure and proceeded to chat away about something. He was a cyclone of positivity after his match with Nakiri Alice and who could blame him. Hayato wondered how in the world did Yukihira-kun manage to look this happy every single day and make it look so real? His eyes wandered to the blushing blonde mess beside him in well used orange-trimmed chef's uniform,

' _Aldini… Heir to his family Trattoria. He's got pretty good stats too'._

His blonde opponent had finished checking over his ingredients and equipment only moments before. His crossed legs and crossed arms reflected an imperceptible level of tension that Hayato envied from the bottom of his heart. Meanwhile, his younger brother Isami Aldini was wringing his hand muttering something rapidly beside his brother, but Hayato obviously couldn't hear past _**Track 35**_. His amateur lip-reading skills told him it wasn't Japanese at least. Hayato thought the elder brother was more likely to be antsy than the younger one, but it turned, it was the exact opposite. Go figure! Hayato decided it was better to stop lip-read now and just focused on the four different beautiful renditions of _**Track 35's**_ melody.

 _Boom._

Hayato gulped. The thumping vibration grinded his joints. It sounded like the stadium doors had _just_ opened to let the spectators in. Fuck, this was taking too long! Couldn't the committee get the ball rolling, like, right now? Hayato grunted in frustration, which caught the blonde Aldini's attention. Hayato offered him an apologetic and sheepish but friendly smile before darting his eyes away. Everyone in the freaking waiting room could tell he was a zapping ball of nerves. He looked to the television screen and saw his name and Takumi-kun's displayed.

* * *

 **銀世界** **勇人 vs タクミ・アルディーニ**

 **Ginsekai Hayato vs Takumi Aldini**

* * *

 _Tap tap_

' _Huh?'._

The gentle touches on his thin shoulders felt like after-shocks that sent his heart spiralling. Hayato-kun jerked his head up so fast it gave him whiplash. He gazed wide-eyed back into his best friend's dark blue ones. He pointed to his ears. Hayato nodded and took out one of his earpiece.

"You'll be fine, Hayato-kun".

His breath shuddered. "Yeah, I know".

His face probably didn't match his words, his cheeks were sore from smiling so much. The flaxen-blonde settled is elbows over his spread knees and bowed his head so he didn't have to look at anyone and concentrated on the upbeat and festivity tune samba dancing out of his earpiece. His ungainly large hands were pale and freckly starfish against his burning cheeks and they were too cold, resisting the warmth that struggled to seep into them. Hayato figured he was quite gaunt today but like hell he'd be looking into a mirror today. He didn't want to see his face.

He wondered though…Would it look the same as the time he was humiliated by a group of seniors in the male-bathrooms the first year of middle-school?

"We best be on our way now before the seats fill up completely. Come along Yozora-kun, Yukihira-kun, Aldini-kun… Do your best, Hayato-kun. You trained hard and for that, you will always be held in the highest regard".

Awww! He was going to tear up! Trust Kasai- _senpai's_ words of encouragement to sound like he was an old, wise wizard _NPC_ from a historical-fantasy game. All that was missing was _'God-speed brave adventurer'._ His bespectacled _senpai_ ' _s_ thin lips curved up into a gentle smile and nodded towards Hayato-kun. His heart grew lighter and he couldn't help his smile burst on his pale face! He was on the verge of fan-boying. By this time, the music _crescendoed_ into its climax and a newfound jauntiness reached his knees. No longer were they moving up and down with restless energy, but with excitement. Yo-kun clapped him on the shoulders once more before giving him confidence-filled thumbs up. Yukihira-kun sprung to his feet and grabbed the tall and thin Aldini before he could fluff up his elder brother's cushion any further.

"That goes for you as well, Aldini-kun".

The other blonde startled as if not knowing how to accept the well-wishes from Kasai- _senpai_. He stood up and faced Kasai- _senpai._ Then he stuttered an over-formal 'thank you' to the unfamiliar upperclassman and he blushed hard. Kasai- _senpai's_ tall frame left the scene without so much as a glance back with Yozora-kun, Yozora-kun and Isami-san close behind. Hayato-kun breathed out a sigh and steeled himself

' _Game on'._

"Ginsekai-san, Aldini-san. Your ingredients have been brought to the stadium now. Please gather your belongings and make your way to the floor-entrance".

A short and busty official whipped her head into the room and called out hastily to them.

"Thank you miss!". Hayato yelled after her and jumped out and down waving his arms.

Then he turned off the music.

The void consumed him. It coiled up tightly. He was freaking pumped now. Yesterday, Nakiri Alice and Yukihira-kun came out of opposite ends of the arena, but this time he and Takumi Aldini were entering from the same entrance tunnel. It was a decision they both wanted to make since they were on their way to being comrades or _party-members_ and all. Hayato picked up his case and so did Aldini-kun. Together they exited the waiting room and strode into the darkness of the concrete tunnel, heads held high. Finally the light bursted from the other end and Hayato gaped at the hundreds of students cheering and screaming from the stands! Wow! It was just like the _Asian Games!_ That reminded him; he needed to ask Yo-kun if they were going to compete in any _e-sport_ tournaments at all this year.

"I did my homework on you. Your actual cooking style is _teppanyaki,_ huh", commented Aldini.

Hayato almost dropped his case. _Kami-sama…_ hearing that sent a spine-tingling chill filled with fuzziness and dopamine straight to his heart. He felt so honoured. _Somebody cared to find out more about him?!_ Hayato wanted to smack himself for how stupidly happy and giddy he was feeling now, but he couldn't help it! Aldini-kun's handsome smile didn't leave his face as he looked at Hayato in a way he wasn't familiar with in anyone else by his fellow _Guild members_.

 _Respect._

Hayato winked.

"I have the eyes for it".

No kidding. He really did. He'd only had _head-shots_ since he started mastering the craft. He could see Aldini-kun not making any heads or tails of what he said, but that was okay. Nobody really did. So he was going to show them _all._

" _Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for your patience! Please get ready for the first match of the day. We have Takumi Aldini! and facing him off will be Ginsekai Hayato!"._

Hayato stepped out of the shadows into the showering light. He fitted his wireless earpieces in once more and checked that his _smartphone_ was secure on his upper-arm strap. The cheers, screams and shouts were deafening. Hayato eyes sought through the crowd and they found Polar Star Dorm up in the middle-right section. He could see Yoshino-chan waving a massive _sensu_ like her life depended on it, Tadokoro-chan and Sakaki-chan were joint-holding a banner with his and Aldini-kun's names on it. Awwww! Marui-kun was stuck holding a flag with a lot less enthusiasm, Aoki-kun and Saitou-kun were cheering their lungs out and Ibusaki-kun just stood there with crossed arms. Finally, he could spy Yo-kun standing beside Yukihira-kun talking about something. Kasai- _senpai_ was nowhere in sight, but Hayato was sure he would appear somewhere later on.

He jumped up and waved at them with all his might. On cue, his best friend turned and waved back with just as much enthusiasm with Yukihira-kun hollering right by him.

"You can see them from all the way up there?", asked Aldini-kun.

"Yep!".

He was so glad he upgraded his earpieces to be 'noise-cancelling'. He didn't know how those _tiny_ things the size of peanuts could really do it without encasing the whole ear with proper mufflers like normal 'noise cancelling' headphones, but _The Guild's NPC…_ a real special one…made it possible and he wasn't about to question it in case of bad luck. Actually, he probably zoned out when he was being explained how it worked… Anywho! They were perfect and he could control their 'noise-cancelling' abilities through his _smartphone_ thanks to the custom companion app. Finally, the two young chefs parted ways and prepared themselves at their own kitchen stations.

" _Contestants! Get ready. You have two hours to cook today's theme…"._

Hayato snapped open the clasps over his case to reveal a set of gleaming, sharp spatulas and his collection of kitchen knives. They sang from their holders beseeching for _first blood._ Beside him was his seventy-inch stainless-steel griddle. Forms were filled out to get his special modification done as part of 'equipment and utensil' to be fitted into his kitchen station for this match and damn it was so hard to understand the freaking words that he needed Kasai- _senpai_ to help him fill it out. Nakiri Alice had her truck full of her futuristic, cutting edge toys and appliances. He had his _sweet_ _baby._

He tapped 'noise-cancelling'. Only his heartbeat remained.

"… _ **Okonomiyaki!".**_

He tapped 'play'.

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.

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* * *

.

.

.

 _'Look at them go'._

Souma leaned forward just as the gong's deep clash washed through the auditorium like an invisible tidal wave. Takumi and Ginsekai pounced into action. They grabbed their ingredients and started cutting with hungry eagerness that rivaled hunting lions. Souma grinned. _Okonomiyaki_ ,eh? So there was even a place for _street food_ in haute cuisine. Well he'd be damned. He couldn't wait to hear what Nakiri Erina had to say about that. She gave him a spiel about how _bentou_ was considered haute cuisine but he didn't buy it _._ He had only ever seen the special _Kansai_ street food,on the _actual_ street, in eateries or _okonomiyaki_ specialist restaurants. Even broke-ass students could still afford it. He couldn't imagine such a nourishing and humble dish be served in high-end gourmet restaurants in a million years.

He watched the two blonde chefs chop up a variety of meats and vegetables, but something weird pinged with him. While Takumi was chopping up and grating what looked like to be standard vegetables used for _okonomiyaki,_ like cabbage and _nagaimo._ Ginsekai was shredding something else at lightning speed with a set of flat spatulas. Kind of similar but different…

"Hey, what's Ginsekai using? It doesn't look like _nagaimo_ ", asked Souma.

"It's _cassava_ ", replied Marui.

"Cassava? What's that?".

Souma's hands found purchase on the railing and leaned back to look at Marui on Mitsunaga's other side. The resident _'Walking Dictionary'_ adjusted his round glasses from the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat, getting ready to cite his answer.

"It's a South American root vegetable. Kind of like yam".

"Look! He's slicing long thin sausages too", added Megumi.

Souma let gravity take him, but his hands remained steadfast around the metal railing keeping him from falling backwards onto those uncomfortable seats. He pushed himself onto his toes and craned his neck until he could see Megumi's navy blue head bouncing up and down as she pointed excitedly down onto the stadium.

"From this distance… I think that's _chorizo._ It's Spanish pork sausages", continued Marui.

"South American and Spanish ingredients… in _okonomiyaki_?".

Souma and Mitsunaga turned around to see Megumi gently sidle past Ibusaki to them and share their viewing space. Souma was in shock. Suddenly something was thrusted in his ear. Yikes! Panic overtook him from a warm and foreign sensation worming its way into the orifice that was, like, _closest to his brain!_ Then he froze in mid-air. It was one of Mitsuanga's earpiece.

' _Festival music!'._

He gawked at Mitsunaga who smirked in return.

" _This_ is Hayato-kun's dish".

Souma's jaw dropped. It was an exotic piece. He could get down with it. It was kind of tropical, like from a hot and summery country filled with laughter and festive people. He could imagine food and drink were flowing wherever this music would play. The acoustic guitar was all sorts of catchy almost wrapping him up into a happy and relaxed beat. Was it Spanish? Caribbean? Brazilian? He couldn't tell. So Ginsekai was going for a Japanese-fusion dish, but fused with any of those countries. That was going to be pretty exciting and just like the other gamer chef with him, another step outside the _Tootsuki_ box. Souma thought this piece for inspiration was clever! _Okonomiyaki_ was a street-food sold at festivals all over Japan, and here he was listening to music that was perfect for festivals or night markets, bustling with people having family-fun. In real life, there would be stall holders and shop keepers shouting their wares to attract and welcome customers mixed along with haggling voices in night gorgeous mix of soft percussions, guitar and something shaking in the background sent a positive vibe through his being. What a flavoursome music piece!

Mitsunaga turned his body towards him and casually leaned against the railing.

"This track has a lot of Spanish and Latino influences. It's got mostly samba, salsa and a touch of bossa nova. The composer has taken a _motif_ and repeated it over and over with some key changes and instrument substitutions to make it more dynamic which is why you feel calm and light without getting bored. You hear that in the guitar riffs and bold repetitive notes of the trumpet. There are only a few instruments that make up the whole piece, but it's the upbeat undertone and rhythm that's the most important and carries the music. This track has _four_ renditions, so Hayato had a lot to experiment with. This could be a _town-theme,_ actually".

"I dig it". Souma took out the earpiece and returned it to Mitsunaga who cleaned it with his handkerchief and then placed it back in his ear.

"Hey is it just me, or is Takumi-san using _half_ the amount of flour than he should be for _okonomiyaki_?", asked Marui.

Souma screwed his crimson brows together and then looked back to the stadium below. Yeah _four-eyes_ was right. _Okonomiyaki_ needed an exact amount of flour for the batter, and therefore the batter needed enough gluten to bind all ingredients together and have enough elasticity in the body. If he was using half, then what else was he going to use for the body? What was Takumi up to? The suspended television screen showed intense but calm concentration on the chef-in-question's fair-skinned face as if he had it in the bag.

"A-Ah… Aldini-kun's ingredients are also completely different!".

Souma looked over at Megumi who was glued to the railing. He narrowed his eyes and looked to the large plasma screen suspended in the air. Damn, she was right! From what he could tell, some of the ingredients weren't out of the ordinary like flour, cabbage and _nagaimo._ But then there were some other products he couldn't quite recognise and were half out of camera view. When the camera panned to Takumi's stove, Souma's crimson brows shot up to his hair-line. Really now?

"Look at what's in the pan. Is that… _Rice?!_ ". Megumi carried on.

Even Mitsunaga blinked.

"Not just any rice. It's _aborio_ rice".

The three students hogging the railing looked behind to see Isami looming over their shoulders. The younger Italian could barely mask the pride from his voice. He was sporting a bandana that shouted 'GO TAKUMI!' with red stars drawn in markers. Both hands were filled with little red, green and white flags. Boy, he was ready to get down and serious with cheering his brother. Isami looked as proud as punch. So that's how it was going to be, eh? Takumi Aldini and Ginsekai Hayato were both going to do some a Japanese-Fusion dish!

"So, Takumi is replacing half the flour in the batter with the risotto, and the risotto sauce is replacing the water and it will bind the _okonomiyaki_ together. The starch from the rice which thickens the sauce will also thicken the batter and make it into a smoother consistency. Without the water to dilute things, that's going to enhance the overall flavour. I get it now!", exclaimed Souma.

His friends were stunned. And people thought he didn't pay attention in class!

Souma stroked his chin feeling awfully good about himself. He considered himself a very open-minded fellow, as evident in how most of the rich kids here hated his guts, but even he was _extremely_ intrigued with Takumi's train of thought for his interpretation of the theme today. That was some smart technique he was using. He continued to watch as Takumi stirred the _risotto_ rice in a silky sauce in a pan on high-flame. He sprinkled something in it that looked like pale yellow shreds of cheese.

He couldn't be more surprised and at the same time, he expected Takumi would pull off something like this, but risotto- _okonomiyaki_ hybrid? Damn! That sounded awesome. He was always a fan of fusion techniques and style and he couldn't wait to see what the Italian chef created. How does one turn a cheap and abundant street-food like _okonomiyaki_ into a gour—.

"SHIT! Ginsekai's kitchen is on fire!", screamed Yoshino.

Souma stumbled from the railing as soon as a blood-red flare erupted from the middle of the stadium. The crowd croaked with feminine yelps and manly _'Woahs'._ It took only seconds for the towering blaze to dance and leap into the air, reaching hungrily for anything they could consume in their wrath. It's unnatural and deep colour sent goosebumps up his arms. Ginsekai took one step back before spinning both _teppanyaki_ spatulas between his fingers and crossed is arms over his face, on guard. Like a knight, he sprang forward and scraped his steel spatulas across the _teppan_ griddle with a piercing cry that even Souma could hear it from up high! The fire sparked, sending showers of red onto the side-benches of the kitchen station but they died in the air. Ginsekai had effortless vanquished the angry flames. The whole auditorium was awestruck.

"Did you see that! It was there and then it was gone like magic", murmured Sakaki-chan.

The auditorium was reduced to buzzing with panicked murmurs thinking that something had gone wrong, before uncomfortably settling down when Ginsekai continued slicing and dicing at lightening pace as if business was usual.

"What the hell was that? What is he doing…", muttered Souma.

"Flavouring the _teppan_ grill", came Mitsunaga's collected reply

"Like that? Hey, I know us chefs _flambe_ things all the time, but that was just overkill". Souma chuckled.

Souma turned to look at _The Guild_ President beside him. He had been silent the majority of the time. He leaned over the railing using his fore-arms, his hands were dangling over the edge. Souma was glad he managed to lose the bandages and his knuckles were looking loads better. Damn, that guy sure was something unreal.

"Hayato-kun likes to be flashy, didn't you already know that?", asked Mitsunaga.

"His clothes speak for themselves. But I never actually got to see Ginsekai's _teppanyaki_ ", commented Souma.

"Not even when we were in _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_ together?", replied Mitsunaga.

"Hey. I was busy with the fried-chicken at _Tomitoya_. As if I had time to run over to your cooking demo at the _Games and Arcade_ store to watch".

Mitsunaga simply chuckled _"Teppanyaki_ suits Ginsekai's skills the most".

"Skills being?".

"Superior hand-eye coordination, reflex and speed. Which kind of explains why nobody can beat him in any _first person shooters_ ".

Souma whistled nice and low and went back to observing the competition below.

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* * *

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" _First to finish is Ginsekai Hayato! Please present your dish!"._

Takumi wiped his brow and stepped back. He took quick deep breaths to control the adrenaline. The lava coursing through his veins weren't done with the exhilaration yet. That was one tough match and he had put all his heart and soul into his dish. _Okonomiyaki._ The Japanese half of his blood. _Risotto._ The _Italiano_ half of his blood. Hayato packed more punch that what he gave credit for. He could practically feel the heat from Ginsekai's kitchen station from the other end! During the whole two hours, the gamer chef looked like he had been invited to perform at a kid's birthday party.

Then that one moment…

That huge burst of flame from his end in the middle of the tournament had set the tone with what Takumi was dealing with. The blaze licking the air with its _diavlo-_ red tongue had momentarily paralysed the Italian chef from his cooking. As soon as he looked over he came across something he had never seen before to _that extent._

Fearlessness

' _Tootsuki's got you all wrong haven't they… Ginsekai'._

Ginsekai's sterling blue eyes had harden so much and was so focused it had sent chills into Takumi. That scrawny, whiny and loud boy who spouted gaming nonsense like a total dork throughout the week had confronted those dangerous flames on his _teppan_ grill head on and swiped across the stainless steel grill with his spatulas as if they were weapons and not kitchen utensils. The flame sparked and crackled before dying completely, bending to Ginsekai's will. Chefs could only achieve _flambe_ through dousing with wine or spirits. He must've done that to his _teppan_ grill, for what purpose? There had been no ingredients on it? Unless… there actually was?

' _Flavour charring…'._

Takumi wiped his hands in the kitchen towel and then threw it onto the bench. He watched Ginsekai very carefully. This chef didn't play by the books. He cooked to video-game music. He saw the smartphone strapped to his arm, which according to Yukihira, meant a _different_ part of his brain was engaged more than the usual _Tootsuki_ chef. He could have anything up his sleeves. Ginsekai jogged over to pull a large stainless steel trolley from the kitchen bay over to where his _teppan_ grill was. He unhooked the latches on both sides. Two of the event assistants ran over and with the blonde gamer chef's instructions lifted the _teppan_ grill and moved it over onto the trolley. Then the assistants ran off the stage and Ginsekai proceeded to push the trolley over to the judging panel.

Takumi swallowed.

The auditorium was filled with shifting murmurs and gasps as the students watched Ginsekai push his entire _teppan_ grill on a large trolley. He stopped about four metres from the judging panel! Takumi screwed his brows together. What was he doing?

Of course! Takumi could wring his own neck. _Teppanyaki_ had a unique way of serving. He'd seen it on the internet a few times, but just how was he going to serve something as large as _okonomiyaki_ with his _Teppanyaki_ skills?

"H-Hello! My name is Ginsekai Hayato".

The judging panel seated five of the most intimidating looking judges he had ever seen. They were the same as yesterday and they looked at Ginsekai with curious yet sceptical eyes. The Director took centre and his presence dominated the panel. His broad and powerful arms were tucked into his large green sleeves. His stern and steely eyes regarded Ginsekai silently. His stature sent trepidation through Takumi and he knew he was going to be the toughest to please. On his right was a short, bold gentleman with kinder and more expressive and still wizened eyes. He too was donned in traditional Japanese garb and he was pint-sized compared to Nakiri Senzaemon, the Demon Food King of Japan. Then there was a fair-haired middle aged man who was dressed in his stock standard business suit, his eye-glasses perched on his nose as he looked down at Ginsekai's unnecessary introduction. The other two, he weren't that familiar with… From the sides, the event assistants trotted onto the stage and placed five small but deep bowls in front of each judge.

"My, isn't this exciting. It's been a long time since I've been to _teppanyaki_ ", chuckled the old and balding judge beside the Director.

"The last time I had food flung at me was from my eighteen-month old daughter", grimaced the judge of the other side.

"Young man, if I get even a drop on my _Armani_ I will instantly vote for the other competitor", joked another.

Senzaemon-dono unfolded his muslce-bound arms. His entire physique rippled under his _haori_ and he rested his forearms on the panel on either-side of the bowl. A rumble echoed from his chest, dwarfing the presence of the other judges easily.

"Normally _Teppanyaki_ is done right in front of the customers and requires a very short distance to throw the food when serving". The Director's deep and resonating voice captivated Takumi's attention and froze Ginsekai on the spot."How do you intend to serve from such a long distance, lad".

"You don't have to worry about that, sir".

Ginsekai's quiet voice carried far enough to be just heard as he walked away and stood behind the _teppan_ grill. Takumi watched as he took marching and measured steps. This boy standing by himself before the judges under the eyes of the whole school was nothing like the reckless and noisy one whom Takumi remembered was goofing around in class at the back of the lecture theatre with Mitsunaga and Yukihira. There was heaviness in his steps, punctuating the murmurs droning from the audience, as if he carried something heavy over his shoulders. Takumi suddenly remembered all the times the blonde boy with the over-sized freckly hands got rough-housed and taunted by his classmates in the middle school division. They shared only a few classes together, and he didn't know who he was then and with deep regret, Takumi was never interested to know. He only knew he wasn't popular. The blonde gamer-chef had very visible sorrow and anger drowning in those vulnerable blue eyes back then... as he did _right now_. Takumi crossed his arms together and rested his right hip against the kitchen bench. But there was a difference. At the same time, there was a pride under the sorrow and anger, like tripwire under snow.

Whoever dared to lay a finger on Ginsekai Hayato all those years ago…

… or said a bad word against _Ginsekai Hayato all those years ago_

… or even turned their back on GINSEKAI HAYATO ALL THOSE YEARS AGO…

…was going to have the boy himself to reckon with now. Today was possibly the day, whether win or lose, the unpopular gamer-chef would rise up. That his path was set, his self-warrior awakening.

Five piping hot _okonomiyaki dote_ were lightly sizzling away from the already turned off grill, living on the residual heat, keeping it crispy.

"My eyes miss _nothing…_ sir".

Ginsekai spun around and _slammed_ his spatulas onto the _teppan_ grill. Takumi jolted at the impact, his heart stopped! The sharp and shrill clang of hot metal-on- hot metal cut through the air and effectively silenced the whole arena. The judges looked to each other perplexed, unsure if the menacing strike towards them was appropriate or inappropriate whether it was _teppanyaki_ or not, but The Director's attention was soley on the gamer-chef and he didn't bat a lash. The commanding Director lifted his bowl and tipped it forward, a silent invitation for the first serving. Tension infused with the air and it clouded the stadium, dragging Takumi's limbs down. Ginsekai widened his stance and sliced the first _okonomiyaki_ into five parts in a perfunctory manner.

 _Shing!_

There was no warning whatsoever. Takumi gasped. Within a fraction of a moment, there was a sharp but small _splat!_ Just as The Director looked down into his bowl.

 _'W-What just happened?'._

"Already?!", yelled a judge.

"I didn't see it!" exclaimed another.

Takumi had to rub his eyes and braced himself on the bench. He leaned over and there he saw it. A piece of _okonomiyaki_ was right in the centre of the white bowl, nestled in the lowest dip as if it had been laid there with careful hands, and not _shot_ through the air from four metres away! The judges gaped! Not a single stray piece of ingredient, garnish or sauce was out of place! The rim and sides of the bowl were pristine. Takumi really couldn't believe his eyes! If Senzaemon-dono was impressed in anyway, he didn't show it, he just stared at the piece of _okonomiyaki_ as if analysing it for answers.

"The delivery… the speed… _perfecto_ ", Takumi muttered.

He looked to Ginsekai. His steely blue eyes were the epitome of deadly precision. A man on a mission. He didn't have eyes, he had scopes. His pupils weren't pupils, they were crosshairs. Ginsekai's arms were extended out wide and his legs parted. His special _teppanyaki_ spatulas had sliced through the air at break-neck speed and they remained in balanced position. His stance was the only evidence that _he_ was where the _okonomiyaki_ came from. The crowd burst into loud and resounding gasps and accolades of audible _'Oh my god!' and 'Woah!'._ The noise level grew two-fold, three-fold at Ginsekai's first strike.

"Explain your dish".

Senzaemon-dono's commanding tone silenced the auditorium again. Ginsekai exhaled and with a few quick spins of the spatulas between his fingers, he rested them on the griddle.

"This is my _**South American style Okonomiyaki**_. I've incorporated some key South American ingredients like Portuguese _chorizo,_ cassava, and my special _chimichurri_ sauce into this Japanese dish to re-create a fresh and new style of _okonomiyaki_ that's packing with spice and vibrant flavours".

"Fusion cuisine", commented the bespectacled judge.

"Yes sir. _Fusion_ cuisine is a burgeoning, yet fast-moving industry in the food world. The wide use of social media and the internet has allowed our people to become more exposed, educated on and passionate to new, creative and innovative food ideas inspired from different cultures across the world! And in return, other countries become exposed to our wonderful cuisines too. In recent times, quick-'in'-easy street-food like _okonomiyaki_ have been on the rise because of our non-stop, busy life-style, tourism and changing economy. People from all walks of life can eat and enjoy them and for any reason. It's now dominating the globe and other countries are investing in Japanese street food in their restaurants. I want to showcase that as _okonomiyaki_ becomes more internationally famous, it evolves as it meets new people and cultures and appeal in many different ways. It can become something quite unexpected. Just like the Japanese-Brazilian cuisine which emerged in the early 1900s in Brazil and has become its own identity and staple, still today".

"I see. The Japanese community in Brazil is the biggest Japanese community outside Japan to date. They have a deep history there and the blend of Japanese and Brazillian way of life has developed its own culture and food. South-American style _okonomiyaki_ … you've thought this out" commented one of the judges.

Ginsekai puffed out his chest.

"Well boy! Let me at 'em!".

The other judges raised their bowls with confident smiles gracing their faces.

Takumi spied a tiny but pleasing smile on the gamer-chef's face.

 _Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!… Shing! Splat… Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!… Shing! Splat…. Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!… Shing! Splat…. Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!... Shing! Splat!… Shing! Splat._

The blonde Aldini paid better attention this time. He followed Ginsekai's movements as best as he could but _Merda,_ he was really quick. Ginsekai had slid one spatula under a portion of the sliced _okonomiyaki_ and easily flipped it into the air. In a heartbeat, he flipped the other spatula upside down and cut the air to intercept its landing after only one rotation. Just as the _okonomiyaki_ portion kissed the metal, the first spatula sliced across from the other side and swiped the side of the _okonomiyaki_ just as he pulled the other spatula backwards! A combination of two opposing spins sent the _okonomiyaki_ portion flying through air across the gaping distance! The garnish miraculously stayed put, embedded in the sauce, and the sauce stuck to the _okonomiyaki_ itself just fine. The judge's jaws dropped in awe as they watched their many different slices of _okonomiyaki_ magically appear on top of each other one after the other until it was all done. Every judge had five pieces of _okonomiyaki._ Was it the manipulation of aerodynamics that allowed the clean shot to happen? That wasn't all. Takumi knew it was _impossible_ for Ginsekai to get a direct straight line simply because of the laws of physics. The different direction of force from the spatulas meant no straight trajectory, so there was only one way he could target the precise landing.

' _He curved them… like bending the trajectory of a soccer-ball'._

"Amazing! I've never seen such precision from _teppanyaki_ before", admired one judge.

"Hmmm… that was very interesting", commented another

"How did you manage to maintain presentation to be so tidy?", asked the judge on the far end, turning the bowl around to inspect the sides and rim.

"A lot of practice, sir", Ginsekai beamed.

Takumi looked over and there were small stacks of pieces of _okonomiyaki_ in each bowl. It was remiscent of 'towering' which was a presentation technique to add height to the dish. The technique combined with bigger plates or bowls created the illusion of eating small portions when actually, they weren't small at all, just taking less space through stacking. This technique was rampant in gourmet cuisine. Not a single crumb of the crispy _okonomiyaki_ batter was on the judging panel.

"Alright them let's taste this".

Each judge picked up their chopsticks and lifted a morsel to their tongues. Their faces morphed into surprise. Takumi could hear the crunch from here. The crispy _okonomiyaki_ batter had the judges salivating bite after bite. The vibrant green _chimichurri_ sauce intertwined with the Japanese mayonnaise sticking to the cabbage and _cassava_ made for an interesting combination of colours that reminded him of the vibrant colours of _Brazil._ Takumi concentrated on the first judge on the left. He licked his fleshy lips and dug into another mouthful of _okonomiyaki_. There were thin slices of fried _chorizo_ dangling from his chopsticks. They were fried to crispiness. His mouth became drenched in the sauces with stuck cabbage and he didn't look bothered at all!

"I say, the tasty spiciness of the _chorizo_ creates a really warm and vibrant flavour in my mouth. The _umami_ and saltiness mixed with the _chorizo_ fat give a depth and body to the _okonomiyaki_ batter which I didn't expect!".

"The _chorizo_ isn't the only thing that actually tastes like _chorizo…_ it echoes through the batter as well. There's a fragrance to it that's not coming from the spices. What is it?", asked the bespectacled judge.

"I rubbed slices of _chorizo_ onto the _teppan_ and let the fat melt all over it to further enrich the flavour of the batter and make it really crispy when I fry it. Then I _flambed_ my entire grill with port to give another level of fragrance".

Ginsekai gestured to his _teppan_. Aha. So that's why the flame magnificently huge. Takumi understood his conception further now.

"Hmm… Pieces of the _chorizo_ still stuck to the _teppan_ gets charred. That's a _barbeque_ technique popular in South America and Spain. It creates an unexpected _umami_ bomb".

"Not only that, the _okonomiyaki_ batter is charred in places too" commented another judge. Takumi could definitely see the tell-tale smokey blackness dotting the edges of Ginsekai's crispy _okonomiyaki_. "How delightful! What do you think Senzaemon-dono?".

Ginsekai was looking all nervous again, just like in the waiting room. He gnawed on his lips as both he and Takumi waited for the Director's critique.

"Charring. It adds a new crisp and fun approach to what is otherwise ordinary root vegetables. Furthermore, it gives it a cooked-outside flavour without having to go outside. And with open-hearth cooking in vogue, more and more food are sporting black char marks like a badge of authentic historic honour".

He could see Ginsekai released a shaking breath. Takumi nodded in agreement. He could smell it. The smokiness of the _chorizo_ and the sweetness of the port wafted to his nose now that he knew what he was looking for. Ginsekai had left the bottle still open and being _Italiano,_ he knew port when he smelt it. The heady aroma and spiciness of the _chorizo_ tickled his nose and made him salivate. He imagined the powerful flavours of the sausages infusing through the dish, giving it an exotic lift from a dish that was otherwise only used to Japanese tongues. Takumi watched the judges nibbled the edges of the _okonomiyaki_ before popping another bite-sized piece into their awaiting mouth.

"Replacing _nagaimo_ with _cassava_ is an interesting choice. The _cassava_ when cooked is soft like _nagaimo,_ but not gooey or slimy at all. It has a more fluffy and the more starchy composition gives a completely different texture to your _okonomiyaki!_ ".

"What are these crunchy bits? Did you fry some of the _cassava_ too?".

"Yes! I sliced them into thin _batons_ and deep-fried them to add more complexity to the _okonomiyaki_ ", replied Ginsekai.

The judges nodded together and continued to appraise the _okonomiyaki_ pieces.

"Now, I have to say something about the _chimichurri_ sauce. I'm normally not a huge fan of sweet, sour and spicy sauces, but young man, your sauce is absolutely gorgeous and goes so well with the mild cabbage taste and the saltiness of the _chorizo_ and the light bitterness of the charring _._ I like how you used the Japanese mayonnaise to cut through the acidity and really let the _okonomiyaki_ batter still shine throughout the dish. I can tell you were very careful with the balance between acidity and saltiness and bitterness, because if either one tip of the scales, it could've destroyed your dish".

"I agree, furthermore, I can taste the garlic, the paprika, lemon juice, coriander and parsley and they blend and marry to well together. It gives a bright pop and zing to the whole dish which I think is a brave thing to do, because like my collegue says, it could've gone horribly wrong if the amount of each element was off balance even by an iota",

Ginsekai pursed his lips and nodded.

"Finally, the theatrics in your superb _teppanyaki_ skill in the beginning stole my breath away. You almost made me wet my pants, son! I didn't think anyone as young as you is capable of throwing food from so far away _and_ hit the target at such speeds without missing a single shot. The performance value really got me excited and whetted my appetite. If I were to eat in your _teppanyaki_ restaurant, my dining experience would be an exhilaration every time".

Takumi could see Ginsekai was almost in tears now.

"If any of the festivals in Japan sells this South American Style _okonomiyaki_ I would eat it no questions asked! It tastes exciting, new and fresh. Frankly, it makes me feel young again, like when I was an adolescent, keen to trying anything and everything. I really like it when I get a chance to taste something that is so inventive and festive and best of all, the flavours and elements actually go together and _work_. The warmth and bright flavours of the South Americana mixed with the elegant mild flavours of Japan create an interesting and joyous dance that goes so well together. A harmony of flavours from different cultures. What does this say about the world our children lives in today?".

"That's it! I'm booking a flight to Brazil because your dish makes me want to dance with some hot Brazilian babes!".

Takumi choked on his spit! Did that old man say what he thought he just said! The other judges pulled confused and yet disturbing looks at the old and balding judge beside Senzaemon-dono. The emcee looked utterly appalled and stuttered into the microphone trying to say something and failing.

"Thank you!".

Ginsekai bowed, as if utterly exhausted. Takumi got himself together and smiled at his new acquaintance and hopefully friend.

" _N-Next is Takumi Aldini! Please present your dish!"._

Takumi placed his special _okonomiyaki_ onto the serving trolley and wheeled it over, just as he was passing Ginsekai who was wheeling his own back.

"Hey, Ginsekai". Takumi stopped right beside him.

The gamer chef looked up. The blonde Aldini was taken aback by the amount of unshed tears threatening to fall from his watery orbs. His heart-strings pulled. _Merda,_ he must've been fighting his hardest. He carried the name of his RS on his shoulders really seriously huh… Takumi offered him his own encouraging smile.

" _Congratulazioni._ Would you allow me to listen to the music that inspired your dish one day?".

Ginsekai stepped back as if he asked him to hand-over his precious _teppanyaki_ spatulas. His opponent slowly lifted his hand to his ears, where Takumi knew his earpieces were, processing his request. Finally a gratifying smile washed over his face and he nodded enthusiastically, his words stuck in his throat from receiving such positive feedback from the judges. Takumi grinned and looked forward.

Takumi made quick work and placed five plates of his _Aldini-style okonomiyaki_ before the judges.

"Oh, such thickness in _okonomiyaki._ Talk about your dish for us", said one of the judges.

Takumi cleared his throat and tucked the serving tray under his arm.

" _Si signor!_ This is my _**seafood risotto okonomiyaki!**_ _"._

The judges' lips lifted in admiring appraisals.

"Another _fusion_ cuisine dish. It must be great being young! You really get inspired from anywhere".

"I am half Japanese and half _Italiano_ , signor. I wanted to create a dish that honours both my heritages and create a marriage of flavours that speaks of my _heart_ ". He patted his chest.

Although Takumi called _Firenze,_ his home he enjoyed summering with his grandparents. They lived in a _beautiful_ town. _Nonna_ and _Nonno_ were originally from _Surriento_. It was called Sorrento to the rest of the world. It overlooked the _Golfo di Napoli_ and was gifted with beautiful views of blue-crystal waters and gorgeous coastlines. His grandparents' home town were rich in seafood and so their cuisine was always filled with freshest and most succulent fish, crustacean and molluscs. His _okonomiyaki_ had to have prawns, fish, squid, shellfish and finally _blue mussels._

"Hmm… I can smell the toasted rice of the _risotto_ , and it smells so delicious. Let's dig in!".

The judges separated their _okonomiyaki_ into pieces and a puff of steam escaped like dancing sea nymphs. The generous serving of _parmasen_ grated on top of his _okonomiyaki_ separated in pale yellow sensual stretching strings leaving the judges wanting. Takumi watched as their noses twitched from the fresh aroma of seafood and they sighed in contentment. His secret weapon…

"It's giving out such as fresh aroma! What is this?".

"It's seashore seaweed, a substitute for the _aonori_ ", Takumi proudly exclaimed.

The judges faces looked absolutely ecstatic. They gobbled up their pieces of the _okonomiyaki_ , filling their mouths to the brim.

"I've seen seashore seaweed being used for cream pasta in some Italian dishes before, but… I never thought it could be used in this way too. Do you use this seaweed back in Italy too?".

" _Si, signor!_ There are kinds of _zeppoline_ that use it".

"Ah yes, that's a Naplese dish that mixes bread and wheat flour, which you can then add seaweed to and fry it", contributed another judge.

" _Precisamente"._

"Of course! The compatibility of the seaweed and the seafood is extraordinary. The fresh and sea flavours are so aromatic and gentle. The variety textures created by the _okonomiyaki_ batter and _risotto_ lift the dish on a whole different ingredients found in both Japan and Italian cuisine! That is a certainly a true fusion!".

Takumi bowed gratefully.

"The depth of the cheese's taste and the seaweed flavours bring out an indescribably harmony. The explosion of _umami_ from the two ingredients famous for each country creates a wonderful mouthful feeling and really wants me to eat more and more. I can taste that the _dashi_ is made from _consommé,_ but it has enough taste that it won't lose to the sauce".

The other judges nodded as well and continued to take more mouthfuls, experiencing and tasting more and more.

"I've also used _passata_ as a subtle seasoning as in _cucina Italiano,_ tomatoes can be used instead of stock too".

"There's something else in this dish that overall binds the seafood flavours together. It's suffused through the _risotto_ and _okonomiyaki_. Aha! It's blue mussel!".

" _Si!_ I used canned blue mussels".

"Excuse me, _canned?!_ Why not fresh?", squawked one of the judges.

"To show how one culture could add and improve another in our progressing society. These canned mussels were boiled in white wine beforehand. These were made with the intention of being eaten straight from the can as a snack or to have a drink with. In _Italia,_ such complicated things won't be made into canned food. Dried mullet roes, anchovies, tomatoes and even olives are cooked".

Takumi raised the small left-over can he didn't use. The small ubiquitous tin shone in the stadium lights as if it were a revered piece of artefact. Heart and soul, that was what makes a dish. He was a _hafu_ studying in _Pappa'a_ mother-country and he had met and dealt with many challenges to his identify. Was he Japanese? Was he _Italiano_? People said a side must always be chosen, but for Takumi he never felt tied down to either side. He was passionate to both and for that, the only way he could show his true-self and colours was to understand what made both sides to great. So great that his parents, Japanese and _Italiano_ would fall in love.

"Japanese people have a great curiosity towards food, as well as an insatiable spirit for inquiry. Us _Italiano_ tend to think _cucino Italiano_ is the best in the world. But this is not the case for the Japanese. While taking in dishes from many different cultures, you make them into your own. Like _kari-raisu_ and _omuraisu_ … and even the traditional _okonomiyaki_ all change shape by adding different toppings. But even so, _okonomiyaki_ is still _okonomiyaki_. There is no way the Japanese will ever forget their pride for their cooking and culture".

It was unusually gratifying to admit that the cuisine of his Mother Country would continue to evolve. The laws of time and the universe could only push it forward, not stagnate if it ever wanted to continue to be alive in his people's culture. When he was taste-testing while cooking, he kept that in mind always. _Okonomiyaki_ were one of those dishes that match the changing of the times. He made sure the _risotto_ also had the _'okonomiyaki'_ feel to it.

" _Judges! Are you ready to cast you vote!",_ cried the emcee.

Senzaemon-dono hadn't said a single word and that perturbed Takumi to no end. He stood up, like an erected monument and held out his strong arm.

" _Handeth me mine brush!"._

Takumi closed his eyes and whispered his silent prayer.

" _The winner of today's okonomiyaki challenge is…!"._

 _._

 _._

 _Hail Mary,_ _  
_ _Full of Grace,_ _  
_ _The Lord is with thee._ _  
_ _Blessed art thou among women,_ _  
_ _and blessed is the fruit_ _  
_ _of thy womb, Jesus._ _  
_ _Holy Mary,_ _  
_ _Mother of God,_ _  
_ _pray for us sinners now,_ _  
_ _and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

 _._

 _._

" _TAKUMI ALDINI!"._

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* * *

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"What do you think _Nakiri-kun?"._

Satoshi could feel the cheers vibrating through the expansive window of the VIP viewing box. It wasn't exactly sound proof as they needed to hear the emcee. The match between Aldini-kun and Ginsekai-kun was a sight to behold. It was absolutely fun to watch. The quick and fast skills from Ginsekai-kun on the _teppanyaki_ were refreshing to see. _Teppanyaki_ wasn't actually that popular in Japan compared to the Western countries. To the Westerners, it was a novelty whereas for the Japanese it was quite ordinary. However, Ginsekai-kun turned it into a performance which chef's often forget could also be part of the eating experience for customers from the low to the high-class. He daresay that the whole school was thoroughly entertained today. Aldini-kun was absolutely magnificent to watch also. The Italian passion was famous. They were passionate in everything they did and young Florentine chef exhibited this strength front and centre for school. His precision, skill and adaptation was an honour to spectate. Satoshi couldn't remember the last time he saw young talent as incredible as this in his whole _Tootsuki_ career. It truly was the Jewel Generation.

"It was obvious Aldini was going to win. His dish appeals to the older generation of Japanese like _Ojii-sama_ and the other judges".

Nakiri-kun breathed on her nails and rubbed them against her shoulder. The utter boredom gleaming through her violet eyes was quite comical to Satoshi that he couldn't help but smile. Did she realise what she was saying, he wondered.

"And you think Ginsekai-kun's dish doesn't?".

She whipped her hand through her hair.

"It breaks too many rules and strays too far from the soul of the actual dish which is _okonomiyaki_. His flavours might be new and exciting and infuses Brazilian flavours and ingredients, but he forgets that the Japanese customers like what they are used to, no matter how much we like to think that we could be _all-accepting_ of different cultures and flavours just because the rest of the world is".

Satoshi agreed to some point. However, he found it _very_ interesting that Nakiri-kun soley merited Aldini-kun's win on his patriotism of the Japanese culture rather than his actual dish. What an interesting development. Satoshi didn't doubt Aldini-kun's skills and flavours at all, heaven's no! Both he and Ginsekai could make two of the best dishes in the whole school using a variety of different flavours and cuisines and yet… there was always an element that went beyond the reasoning of food that would influence a customer's perception, especially if they came from a very…

… a homogenous society…

 _The Guild_ was famed for being inspired from video-game music to fuel their creations. He was sure that even _music_ evoked its own prejudice due to the societal construct of the composer, like _baroque classical_ or American blues. Video-game music? Hmm… a very _new_ genre of music these days. Thus, Satoshi surmised the link between music and food, had to be in cultural and society shift. Video-game music probably created its own niche somewhere out of sheer persistence. He was curious to know what exactly Ginsekai-kun was listening to for his dish. What sort of music inspired a dish that was so outlandish and cross-cultural and exotic? He heard from Kasai-senpai, that it was from a video-game album he had sourced, and the musical scores was still in early stages of production and wouldn't be released until a few years. Satoshi glanced at Nakiri-kun's bristling form. If his understanding was correct, Nakiri-kun was trying very hard _not_ to say in blunt terms that Ginsekai's cooking was perhaps more… _advanced_ in some ways which made it difficult for the 'older' generation to catch up.

' _It makes me glad to be a millennial. We get to decide what future we live in'._

"How is that different to what Aldini-kun did? He combines _risotto_ and _okonomiyaki"._

"He uses the ingredients the Japanese and Italian finds in common to stick to the original roots of the dish"

Satoshi grinned. Ah. There it was. The eel that slipped through the cracks. The only way for the Japanese to like another culture's food was to… what was the word…? Japanify it. Make it their own instead of accepting it's newly evolved self. Satoshi posed himself the question he wouldn't dare ask the judging panel. Why couldn't other cultures be allowed to do the same and make _okonomiyaki_ into their own did it _have_ to _stay_ Japanese to be valued? Shouldn't the world operate on give and take? There had to be a two-way street, but it seemed only a one-way street was possible right now.

 _'Kasai-senpai_ … _Tsurugi-senpai_ … _what have you been teaching these kids_ … _'._

"So what are your thoughts of _The Guild_ now".

"Why do you keep asking me that?!".

Nakiri-kun rounded on him, her bite and annoyance signalled her broken limit. Satoshi could honestly keep going at this, however if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, he decided to back away just a tad. He chose his most diplomatic response.

"You never gave me a proper answer so I was wondering if you were perhaps in the process of evaluating your disposition on the RS".

"Mitsunaga-kun is still a blemish on _Tootsuki's_ reputation with his silly idea of putting stories in cooking and cooking to video-game music".

"I didn't ask about Mitsunaga-kun, I asked about _The Guild_ as an _RS"._

"…!".

Oh what fun! Satoshi dramatically slapped his chest in mock chastisement and shook his head. It only aggravated Nakiri-kun even further. She growled and turned away, her souring mood added more oil to his flames of humour. She stopped speaking to him. The brunette seventh seater's tenacity stretched further than just cooking. In a school as strict and conservative as _Tootsuki,_ he needed to search for fun in different ways. Working on the Polar Star Plantation was one of them. Watching Nakiri-kun break from her usual composure at the mention of the RS was another. It was worth the extra mile just to see how quickly Nakiri-kun's beliefs felt challenged by the quirky RS.

Especially when a certain sleepy black-haired gamer-chef was involved…

"As riveting as our conversation is, Nakiri-kun, let's see what our next match it up to".

As if on cue, the emcee ran across the stage just after the event assistants cleared the kitchen stations.

" _Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for your patience. Up next, the theme of fourth match is_ _ **burger!**_ _"._

He could feel Nakiri-kun glaring at him from the side. Ah, he lived for entertainment like this. He simply closed his eyes and smiled. He was the one who chose that theme and Nakiri-kun tried to give him hell for it. Eizan-kun didn't care though. Any cooked meat-patty sandwiched between two buns would qualify as a burger, so that meant the contestants would have free reign over the type of meat and buns they used. Who would've guessed the _Tootsuki_ culinary school would entertain burgers as a theme for haute cuisine? Satoshi certainly didn't and that was exactly why he wanted that to be included as a theme. As predicted, the sheer unexpectedness of the food item made it a novel choice.

" _Ladies and gentlemen! Here are our two contestants! Hayama Akira and Arato Hisako!"._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

"He's not in the waiting room… where did he go?".

As soon as the match ended, Yozora made his quick goodbyes and left the stands. He ignored the pleas to stay and watch the next match but his mind was far from that. It was filled with Hayato-kun. A surge of panic and worry ate at his stomach as he searched for his best friend who should've been back by now. He swung around on the door jamb and went to peek into the other rooms, but was promptly booted out by event officials. Damn. He watched Hayato-kun cave at the verdict. No, no no… that was the last thing he wanted. Hayato-kun's crushing disappointment broke his heart. He had to find him quickly.

' _Why can't the idiot understand that we're all proud of him no matter fucking what?!'._

Yozora angrily paced the corridor, ignoring the committee members weaving past him. He checked the bathrooms and Hayato-kun wasn't there either. When it came to Hayato-kun, the recovery was worse than the breakdown. When Takumi Aldini's name slashed across the enormous calligraphy paper, Yozora could see the world-ending distraught carved over the flaxen-blonde's face as plain as day.

Then the smile. That _stupid_ , _god-damn_ _fucking_ fake-smile.

It was too late. Yozora already saw the cracked crystal vase falling onto a marble floor as Hayato-kun's last shred of hope shattered into a million pieces. As he watched his friend shake hands with Takumi Aldini at the very end, Yozora couldn't ignore the remaining thread of strength fray before the slump in posture sent him plummeting over the edge and into the darkness even if he tried. Aldini-kun didn't notice. No. Nobody else noticed how Hayato-kun fought to reclaim control over his body restraining the cry that threatened to escape from deep within his chest. His peppy and over-optimistic façade was forcing itself far too hard at the messy seams and Yozora was sure that… _this time…_ it would tear him apart from the inside.

" _Looking for someone?"._

Yozora spun around so fast, his dangling ear phones slapped him around the chest.

"Who are you?".

Some distance away, a tall student leaned against the wall as if he owned it. Large muscles encased his forearms as he pushed them across his chest, accentuating the bulkiness. His shabby clothes screamed delinquent. A pair of beady, menacing eyes stared back at him. Yozora blinked several times trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. The mysterious but sinister looking student's braided hair was tight across his scalp, clean and intimidating. There were no light in his black eyes, just bloodlust and greed, it sent shivers up his arms. The sadistic grin knifed across his tanned face was so unpleasant that his Yozora's fight or flight instinct started to war against each other.

"The name's Mimasaka Subaru".

His name clicked something in his brain.

"You're one of the prelim finalists". Yozora commented.

"Sure am".

The student named Mimasaka pushed off the wall and stalked towards Yozora like a panther. His chin obscenely jutted out screaming with arrogance. His imposing stature blocked some of the light from the windows, but the dark-haired gamer chef held his ground.

"That was some match huh? Ginsekai against Aldini. Nothing could be more tragic than that. It was clear from the start that Ginsekai didn't stand a chance".

"Watch your mouth".

"Touched a nerve? Heh, Well, aren't _we_ made of glass".

Yozora didn't have the patience for back-to-back taunts and they were fast getting old. What the fuck was this behemoth trying to start? Yozora swallowed his retort, knowing better than to give in, but holding it in only made it worse. His hand twitched a he could feel a vein pulsing on his forehead. A cruel sneer formed on Mimasaka's large face as if he found something incredibly funny, when it totally wasn't. He leaned forward, his eyes boring in his. Yozora's breathing quickened against his will and he felt his teeth forcing its way from between his lips in a snarl. The anger boiled his system, ready to spill over and melt the floor.

"Hey relax. I just wanted to ask you something… about your friend".

"…".

"You two look like you're best buddies on the surface. I just wanna know what you _really_ think of him"

Yozora narrowed his eyes. _What the fuck._

"I mean, it's obvious the guy is second-rate. He only made the _Round of Sixteen_ with the lowest score and he _got_ _fucked_ _in the ass_ by that one-trick-pony Aldini in the match just now".

Yozora didn't know how it happened, but Mimasaka's shirt was fisted in his hand. His veins were filled with poison and it burned deep and potent in his gut. He saw red and nothing else. He had never felt such magnifying _hatred_ for anyone until now! Yozora seethed in his face, his fury and rage tipping at the sight of that merciless, lack-lustre and pathetic face of a monster. Every word stung only fuelled the fire that raged inside him. Every violated phrase was like gasoline to it, his fists clenched until his skin turned raw red, and rooted his jaw. His patience crackled into ash away like black confetti.

"There it is, that face I wanna see heh".

Yozora was going to make him gag on those words, make him shut the fuck up right now, and he was just about to make it happen! Suddnely, the corridor on the other side filled with the click of high-heels and with soul-breaking restrained, he dropped his fist and backed away before he broke his knuckles _for real_ by planting it in this mother-fucker's face. A hateful grin spreaded over Mimasaka's face, wide and open, showing his over-whitened teeth. In that moment his motives were clear. he was a mocker, one who enjoyed whatever torment he could inflict on others. _How fucking dare he._

"You're a real interesting dude, Mitsunaga. You and that measly RS".

Mimasaka brushed his shoulders, took a few steps back and straightened his clothes as if nothing of consequence happened. He threw Yozora another mocking glare. His think lips twisted into a feral smile.

"Anyway, I gotta go. Don't worry so much about Ginsekai. If his back can heal, so can his spirit. Whatever's left of it, anyway. Laters".

Just like that, Mimasaka swaggered around and sauntered away with a lazy bacward salute, just as the event assistants flooded the corridors for their change over. Yozora was rooted to the spot. he broke out into cold sweats, shaking with pent-up wrath, Paralysed in anger.

' _If his… back… can heal…?'._

His mind snapped.

Insurmountable rage returned ten-fold and every fibre of his soul ignited. His bones shook and his thoughts consumed him mercilessly.

.

.

 _HOW THE_ _ **FUCK**_ _DID HE KNOW ABOUT THE CIGERETTE BURNS ON HAYATO-KUN'S BACK?!_

* * *

 **Ooooohhhhhhh... shots fired...!**

 **Oh my god guys. Writing in Takumi's POV was so nostalgic. I MISSED WRITING HIM SO MUCH! Oh the feeeels. Well done Takumi and congrats on the win! Hayato... poor baby... win or no, I'm sure you've single-handedly turned Tootsuki's impression of you around with your mad skills! THE GUILD LOVES YOU AND NEVER FORGET IT!**

 **I missed writing Isshiki too... gonna take a quick peep at _Unhinged Needs _now...**

 **Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed the continuing saga! Day Three is next. Let me know what you think and I'll see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	12. No Time Left

_Chapter 12 - No Time Left_

* * *

 _ **Round of Sixteen - Day Three**_

"You don't have to do this. We could still go with my idea to skip today's matches and just have a _jam session_ at home. Plus, I miss hearing you play the flute, especially your arrangement for _**Track 69**_ ".

Yozora folded his arms behind his head. The dark-haired teen matched his strides with Hayato-kun's as they ambled through the courtyard towards _Heaven's Moon Arena._ It was devoid of students because they were late. He and Hayato-kun took their sweet-arse time getting ready, walking in and out of rooms getting shit done in the slowest way possible. He was only following Hayato-kun's lead. It was as if everything was a deeply, personally needed action to him. Yozora didn't question it, he just went with it. He kept his eyes on him, not caring how strange it seemed for one male to stare so close to another. Nobody was there to see them anyway. The whole school was crammed into the _Heaven's Moon Arena._ He was going to whisk him home if there was one sign of false bravado, but there was none. Instead, there was something akin to soft _satisfaction_ glowing from his face. It had been there all morning as Hayato-kun carried out his morning tasks without burden. Yozora had never seen it on Hayato-kun before. He was usually zero to a hundred with nothing in between.

Relief washed over him.

"Relax, Yo-kun". Hayato-kun chirped. "I had a really good look at myself last night".

He stopped walking.

Yozora had found him in their clubroom yesterday after scouring the _Autumn Elections_ venue. He had thrown his bag on the kitchen bench and skated on his knees to his best friend who had been cowering in the furthest corner, still in his red and black chef's uniform. Seeing him like that again had torn his heart to pieces! Hayato-kun had been more than crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that came from a person drained of all hope. Yozora had gathered the damp and mucous covered face to his chest and they had both sunk into the linoleum floor, letting the world go to hell. His jaw had felt so tight and desperate words to console his friend had congested right behind his teeth. All he had done was to stroke his friend's wilted hair. Hayato-kun's tears had mingled with his sweat and his gasping wails had echoed around the clubroom. He would never forget that sound too. The pain that flowed from his was as palpable and as frigid as the blizzard winds, and soon the only thing he could think of was eliminating his friend's pain, _at all costs._

"You're here in _Tootsuki_ because you've made up your mind to leave your orchestra and I-I stayed because of you… But…my resolve is nothing compared to yours. I'm supposed to be a chef and all I've ever done is lean on _you_ , lean on _Kasai_ - _senpai_ , and lean on _Tsurugi_ - _senpai_!".

Hayato and whipped around, making Yozora back up suddenly. His cheerful face was contorted into a hardness that screamed attention! His sky-blue eyes hardened to cracked diamonds. Hayato thumped his palm on his chest, and then cut the air with it as he spoke. Deep regret and frustration shone in his eyes, making the cerulean blaze.

" _Yesterday, I was supposed to change that!_ But I couldn't… because you were there to catch me when I lost. _Always"._

His declaration slapped Yozora in the face. His comment was so out of character, so far from what he knew of Ginsekai Hayato, that he just stared with his mouth hanging open. His brain formulated no thoughts other than to register that he was stunned to the moon and back. Yozora closed his mouth, and then looked down to Hayato-kun's toes, before glancing up to catch his eye. Hayato-kun's face melted back into a soft and gentle smile. He stepped forward and grasped both his shoulders which made his headphones shake. He felt the heavy weight push him down and his fingers securing themselves into his flesh.

"I mean this in the kindest way possible, Yo-kun. I'm sick of feeling sorry for myself. I'm sicking of crying. I'm sick of feeling lost… It's a dark and lonely place. Most of all, I'm sicking of _being saved by you_ every time".

Yozora gulped. Hayato-kun was like a snapshot out of time. He could see his gel-slicked blonde hair resisting the breeze. His youthful face directly in front of his, back facing the sun. His lips were set in a thin determined line, adamant to get his message across. He got it. Though Hayato-kun's heart was scarred, he still smiled every day. He smiled like the joy of life in him could vanquish all the darkness which threatened to consume him. In that sloppy school uniform over his unwashed hoodie and regular earphones dangling out of the collar, he could be anyone… or even no one. But to Yozora, he meant the world and without him, he couldn't enjoy a simple _fanfare_ at the end of a _low-level battle_ or admire the beautiful 4k graphics of an expansive landscape when hunting around for mammoth's tusks. There was nothing Yozora wouldn't do to keep Hayato-kun from harm. As he stared back into his best friend's eyes, he finally came to a daunting realisation.

' _I can't always protect him…'._

"Damn it man, I love you, but I don't want you to save me anymore. I want you to _stand by me_ while I save myself".

Yozora closed his eyes and placed his hand on Hayato-kun's, pushing it off his shoulder. Hayato-kun was a hell of a lot stronger than he gave him credit for. When did he gain such strength? Where was he when it happened? He cracked a wry smirk, finally knowing that he probably wasn't as good a friend as he thought, _not even half._ To be a good friend, he needed to… let him stand up.

"You're right".

Hayato-kun's eyes widened dramatically as if he was a caricature or that he didn't expect Yozora to agree at all. Then he smirked and punched him on the shoulder. Yozora took it without complaint and he felt something light creepy up his throat and before he knew it, he was chuckling and Hayato-kun joined him. Yozora could honestly say he had never felt more proud for Hayato-kun than he did now. He just regretted never showing it properly or not saying enough. No time like the now to start that habit.

" _C'mere!"._

Yozora thrusted his arm up and wound it around Hayato-kun's neck. The boy yelped and tossed his body around to throw him off but Yozora wasn't going to let go that easily, _not yet at least!_ He promptly proceeded to rub his knuckles in Hayato-kun's perfectly styled hair at rapid-speeds making the boy holler for him to let go and stop ruining his so called 'cool-as-fuck hair style'. Yozora released him after getting another good cackle in and watched as the blonde boy stumbled away and throw a dirty look.

"Fucking hell Yo-kun! What was that for?!". Hayato kicked him in the back of the knees.

Yozora took let it slide too. He laughed. His deeper chuckle lifting his spirits again.

"Nothing".

"Unbelievable… Let's get moving. I want to at least to see the judging. Yukihira-kun said today's match is between **Marui-kun** and **Houjou-san** ".

Ah yes. The theme was _**pie.**_

Yozora didn't know those two all that well. Marui-kun was an extremely intelligent and was one of the most academically gifted students in their grade. He had the glasses, straight-laced air and stern expressions like an over-worked PhD professor, and that was just in _class._ However, during the training camp, the guy looked like he needed an ambulance half the time. He always looked so exhausted and his stamina during the assessment tasks was _noob_ level. Yozora admired guys like Marui-kun. Chef's needed a hell of a lot of physical strength and endurance but the bespectacled student didn't let that stop him from achieving success. All that natural intelligence, sharp memory were his special _skill set_ that truly compensated for his physical short comings which resulted in him being the finalist for _The Round of Sixteen._

Houjou-san on the other hand… he knew next to nothing about her. She was a Chinese cuisine specialist, but that was just public information. She was tall, strong and was so intimidating. Her cooking style was fierce and aggressive and her skills landed her in the _Round of Sixteen_ too. Looking at her in the Preliminary once was enough to make his testicles shrivel. She was a damn scary girl and an exceptional chef.

Yozora thought of all the other students that made it from his block.

Himself  
Hayama  
Kurokiba  
Yukihira  
Ibusaki  
Marui  
Mito

And…

' _That motherfucker…'_

Hayato-kun didn't wait up and was a few metres ahead and counting. He was humming the _Super Mario_ tune. His hands were deep in his pockets, but his elbows still swung around like a clumsy chicken. His feet swung high in the air with each step, as if he was a kid exaggerating his march into the forest in a school play. No… Hayato-kun didn't need to know about _him_.

"I've just remembered I need to do something. Save a seat for me with Polar Star Cheer Squad, yeah?".

The blonde gamer chef swung around on his heel like a spinning top and squared Yozora with a wholesome befuddled look.

"What? Again?".

Yozora already waved him off and strode off in a different direction. He didn't wait for Hayato-kun to answer him as he didn't have a lot of time to waste and he wasn't sure if he was going to get another opportunity. He found the second entrance to the _Heaven's Moon Arena_ and quickly climbed the stairs. According to Kasai- _senpai_ , these stairs didn't lead to the main stands, it actually lead to the VIP seats for school faculty, special interest guests and the VIP viewing box for the Elite-Ten. Yozora leapt up two steps at a time until he reached a plush carpeted corridor. Odd. There weren't any event officials milling about like ants. Oh well, they were probably all watching the competition. A resounded wave of claps and cheers reached his ears just as he was thinking how Marui-kun was faring against Houjou-san. He shook his head. He needed to get a move on. Looking to his left, there was a big red door in the middle of the beige white wall. It looked like an important door. He decided to give it a try. As soon as Yozora touched the golden handle, it turned by itself and the door swung open with a soft sigh.

"Hmm? Oh, what a pleasant surprise".

Gentle aqua greeted cobalt blue.

"Isshiki- _senpai_ …".

Yozora blushed and looked down. The upperclassman laughed merrily. Yozora coughed into his fist suddenly feeling a bit funny to be standing in front of a distinguished student. He had heard a lot about the brunette seventh-seater from Tsurugi- _senpai_ and Kasai- _senpai_. They were on good terms… he thought. Isshiki- _senpai_ was a year younger than his senior _Guild Members._ He was a force to be reckoned with if one got on his wrong side, apparently. He was like the eye of storm. All nice, calm and safe, things were fine and he was all around pleasant. But once one crossed the invisible barrier into the edge of the vortex for any number of transgressions that ticked off the _senpai_ , he could unleash as small portion of his true strength on the unsuspecting individual and they would really be in for a tough time and wouldn't know it until it was too late. Kasai- _senpai_ said Isshiki- _senpai_ could be pretty unforgiving when it came to achieving his goals too and this made him a highly skilled chef. Tsurugi- _senpai_ said Isshiki- _senpai_ was cunning and intelligent like that. It was one of the reasons why he was on the Elite Ten Council.

" _Who is it?"._

Yozora stiffened at the voice. His ears pricked up on their own accord. The clipped and posh tone filled him with the jitters, like before giving a class presentation. She sounded close, but he felt was way beyond his reach. Isshiki- _senpai_ opened the door wider and revealed the source of his search sitting on the long sofa facing the huge floor-to-ceiling class that looked over the entire arena.

"It's Mitsunaga-kun", Isshiki- _senpai_ sang out before directing back to him. "Did you want something?".

"Nakiri" he blurted.

Bewildered eyes blinked back. Shit. Fuck. Bollocks. Real smooth… _idiot._

"I… uh… I mean, I was looking for Nakiri".

Yozora's wandering eyes landed back on her immediately. At once, her posture stiffened and she blinked in surprise and in a little bit of trepidation. He imagined that if she was a cat, her fur would be standing up on end and arching her back, getting ready for anything to happen. She twisted her body around on the expensive sofa and furrowed her brows at him. Her manicured hand daintily held the back rest to steady herself. Yozora's cheeks felt too warm to be appropriate. His body started to coil in on itself and he stuck his hands into his pockets, but he resisted slouching in front of her. Unlike the dark tunnel from two days ago, the bright glow of the room made Nakiri's features leap out at him. Lashes like butterfly wings adorned bright amethyst eyes as they scrutinised him. Her rose-tinted cheeks looked softened and her creamy skin was almost luminescent. Soft wisps of her aureate hair swept past her ears and caressed the skin of her neck, jaw and cheeks and around her rather beautiful, deep eyes. Shiny and sleek colours have always appealed to him, maybe that was why he constantly imagined sifting his fingers through her long hair.

"M-Me?".

Her voice went from demanding into quiet and concerned just like that. Her small parted lips as she stuttered were the cherry on top of his cake of fluster. He pushed out a measured breath as he watched her wet her lower lip with a quick swipe of her tongue before he combusted. Yozora forced a swallow and nodded at her. He tensed, waiting for her response with bated breath. Isshiki-senpai cocked his head to the side and he opened his eyes, showing a brilliant blue. _Kami-sama,_ just saying her name in front of people was making him all hot and bothered.

"Perfect timing. I'm just on my way back to the Elite Ten Council room to discuss a few things with Eizan-kun. I'll entrust Nakiri-kun to your care for now, Mitsunaga-kun".

"W-What?", spluttered Nakiri.

Yozora was sure Isshiki-senpai's farewell wasn't meant to sound _loaded_ like that, but his cheeks continued to react like a supanova. He wished his headphones could magically transform to a scarf. Nakiri continued to try and fail to form words at Isshiki- _senpai's_ back as he exited the room. Yozora stepped in to let him through and with a swift click of the door, the room descended into awkward silence. Yozora rubbed the back of his head, his nails digging just behind the thick plastic and metal band of his headphones resting around his neck.

"What do you want?".

He turned around and was instantly caught in Nakiri's resplendence. Pretty girls were always the worst. _Kill him now!_ Guys like him had absolutely no handle on being all alone in a room with them. The overwhelming need to be all cool and shit was unforgiving and Yozora found himself once again at a lost for what to do to impress Nakiri Erina without total creep. At least the last time it was just the two of them; there was a grand piano to distract himself with. Piano jazz music was the closest thing he could do to strut his stuff to the impossible-to-please Nakiri Princess. Yozora plodded over to the sofa. He noted the way Nakiri immediately crossed her legs and folded her arms. Her back shot up and her chin tipped up just slightly so that it would be enough for her to sort of glare at him from down her nose. Yozora sighed and dumped himself into the seat cushion beside her. He wasn't going to beat around the bush.

"I want to ask you about—".

" _First to finish is Marui Zenji! Please present your dish!"._

"Shhh! Judging is starting. Ask me afterwards".

Her hand shot up to his face, short of a couple of centimetres. _Huh?! He thought he was going to get slapped!_ It turned out, it was a clear dismissal of the highest degree. She was going to completely ignore him for that long?! His words instantly retreated and he blushed hard. His eyes crossed painfully from staring at her open palm. Suddenly, he could detect a sweet peach scent followed by rose and a feminine musk. Her perfume… Her hand… was so close… he could feel the body heat from them caressing his dry lips. Girls put on perfume differently to guys. They usually dabbed their necks too… so the scent of her perfume would be stronger at her _neck_ right?

' _Pull back… I don't have enough HP for this'._

Yozora backed away warily before he made a fool of himself and started talking to her hand like an idiot. Nakiri dropped her appendage so that it was on her lap. The focus and attention she bestowed on the arena below left Yozora feeling cold and bereft. He had no choice but to wait then… he looked down onto the arena too, watching the suspended television screen.

" _Tell me about your dish, Marui-kun",_ asked one of the judges.

As soon as the event assistants finished securing a microphone lapel to Marui-kun, he pushed his round glasses up his nose followed by a slow, unfurling smirk. Rumour in Polar Star Dorm had it that Marui-kun didn't actually show his true strength in the Preliminaries. Yozora was thoroughly intrigued. The academic chef brought over five round pie dishes to the panel. It appeared he was going for the rustic-farmhouse presentation by serving the pie still in the pie-tin. Its delicately wrinkled and flaky crust was a light golden bronze. But the crust was kind of unusual, did it looked undercooked? There was a glossy whiteness on some parts like melting snow and sprinkles of toasted nuts and seeds lay delicately in the middle.

" _This is my_ _ **Japanese-style Squab Pie**_ _",_ declared Marui-kun

" _Squab pie? I've never heard of that before young man"._

" _I didn't expect you would, sir. It's an old-fashioned English pie, from South-West England, whose roots could be traced back to the 1700s. It's almost no longer eaten today in England however it's been mentioned in older literary works such as Agatha Christie and Charles Dickens. The term 'squab' refers to young pigeons as the filling. Pigeon meat was exclusively for the rich in those times, and the squab pie has substituted pigeon meat with mutton for the common folk. There are variations in different regions such as in Cornwall, Gloucester and Devon. This is my take on squab pie"._

With that, Marui-kun extended his arm and invited the judge to have a taste of each of their pie. Yozora scooted forward on his sofa cushion and watched with utter fascination as the judges dug their knives into the centre of their pies. He had to really admire the camera work. Steam puffed like rising liquid from the hot fissure and saliva instantly pooled into his mouth. The filling slowly oozed out and coated the cutlery in a rich shining brown sauce. Chunks of plump meat filled up the cavity and the first judge took the first bite.

" _My! What flavour! It's so rich! It packs a really flavourful punch. The carefully fried mutton filling is just bursting with its umami flavours. But there is another ingredient in here that gives a definite sweetness alongside the meat. It's strong but not over-powering, but it doesn't shy away or decorates the mutton flavour. It actually stands on its own. Did you use some sort of fruit in this?"._

" _Yes sir, I've used fuji apples… and apple cider"._

Yozora reeled back. Hot damn. He knew that there were some meats that went well with fruit such as roasted pork with apple sauce, or smoked ham with cranberry sauce. Mutton and apple? That was interesting. That was the thing, the fruit element were _sauces_ or _condiments_ so it wasn't very present and the customer was the one who decided how much of the sauce they wanted. But for pie? Where the apples were in it and were an actual ingredient that stood equally to mutton? Apple had a distinctive and tart flavour which is greatly heightened when cooked, which was why it often needed spices like nutmeg and cinnamon to help tone down the sourness, and apple pies were often served with whipped cream. Chefs normally had to be super-careful not to caramelise apples too much in the cooking process otherwise it would come out too strong and throw the harmony off balance. That was pretty cool and he wondered how Marui-kun was going to pull this off.

" _The mixture of meat, fruit and spices goes all the way back to Medieval times when there was no distinction between sweet and savoury yet. Devonshire, which is one of the places that have its own version of squab pie, is famous for apples and apple cider. They grew apples that were specifically used for squab pie. I've chosen fuji apples for its denser flesh to withstand the baking and keep shape. It is also sweeter and has a more fragrant flavour than the typical Devonshire breed. I've also added apple cider to give the pie gravy to give a more complex note"._

The judges nodded and continued to dig in.

" _The top crust is just phenomenal. It feels like I'm cracking into a soft senbei when I'm digging in"._

" _Thank you, sir. That's because I've mixed the dough with rice flour. To give it a lighter, airy and crispy texture",_ said Marui proudly.

Well how about that. Yozora smirked. He was always learning something new with Polar Star.

" _Yes, the shining stars are the mutton and the apples. They're so tender and silky, that is great skill in achieving such a fine texture with both meat and fruit. I can also taste the garlic, ecshalots, thyme and button mushrooms. They traditionally go well together with mutton too and all complement each other",_ said the third judge.

" _Now please try the squab pie with clotted cream. It will sure to bring you a new flavour"._

The judges dipped their spoon into the snowy white thick cream in their own separate dishes. They spread it on top of their morsel and spooned it into their mouths. Their reactions were instantaneous.

" _It's so luxurious! The cream adds a new level of mouthfulness which goes beyond the mutton. The delicate mildness of the cream surrounds the mutton and apples in a comforting blanket, tying the strong flavours together in further. Well done, young man!"._

Marui-kun bowed and Yozora could see he was absolutely ecstatic with the feedback. The event assistants removed the five pie dishes and the young Polar Star chef returned to his kitchen station.

" _Next up is Houjou Miyoko! Please present your dish!"._

The crowd below grew a bit quieter. The formidable Houjou-san strode past Marui-kun without any acknowledgement. She meant business. Her firm and strong steps showed an unbelievable amount of power. Her long and elegant crimson _cheongsum_ was so eye-catching and distinctive. The hems of the front and back swished against her muscled calves.

" _What do we have here Houjou-san?"._

" _ **Chinese Chicken Sweet Corn Pie".**_

The first thing Yozora thought was that it was such a typical Chinese flavour combination. Houjou-san had served it out of the pie tin and it stood on flat wooden boards like in those trendy hipster cafes. The rectangular block looked like a huge gold bullion! He would be hard pressed to deny that Houjou-san was perhaps thinking of the _Feng Shui_ gold ingot, a Chinese lucky item for wealth. Her pie was just the right golden colour and the pie crust around the sides was nice and firm. There was a light sprinkle of black sesame seeds too. The simplicity of her presentation left more for Yozora to wonder about the flavours waiting to come out of the pie.

" _Chicken and corn is a very ubiquitous flavour, young lady. Are you sure that it will be enough to blow us away?",_ asked the judge on the far right, confirming Yozora's initial thoughts.

" _Why don't you taste first then tell me later?"._ Houjou-san countered.

The judges looked to each other, shrugged and did just that. When they dug their knife into the golden crust, it's crunch looked very promising. On the first bite, Their eyes popped out of their sockets. The judges started gouging into the pie, as if it were their guilty pleasure.

" _Oh that savoury and sweet flavour! Who knew that such simple ingredients could pair so well! The tenderness of the chicken and the crunch of the corn create a lovely combination. Each kernel is bursting with sweetness. The pie crust is firm, yet crunchy which is perfect"._

" _The warm spice you've used is well thought out. The ginger gives it a fragrant kick and the white pepper gives that 'harsh' and 'burnt' flavour just on the top but the subtle vinegar of the spice goes so well with the savoury chicken flavours"._

" _Hang on a minute…",_ interrupted the judge in the expensive business suit.

He paused and squinted down at his pie. Yozora knitted his brow. What's happening? He stood up from the sofa to get a closer look and he noticed the same thing the judge was staring at as he picked his pie filling with the tines of his fork.

' _The chicken meat… is black?!'._

" _I see you've noticed"._ Houjou-san sauntered forward and placed her hands on her hips, targeting her sly smile at the judge. _"What you're looking at is silkie chicken"._

Oh so that explained why the judges were ecstatic over it despite declaring how simple the combination of flavours were. _Silkie_ _chickens_ were famous for their fluffy white plumage and how silky-soft they were to the touch. They were a delicacy in the Chinese cuisine, heralded for many health benefits attributed for their blue-black skin, blue-black flesh and blue-black bones. Their melanin production went crazy in their evolution and had spread throughout all their connective tissues making them a bird sure to be loved by all goths. Most people couldn't tell the difference between normal chicken and silkie chicken flavours, but for gourmet food critics and chefs, they totally could. The silkie chicken was always favoured for their sweeter, deeper and gamier flavour.

" _I see. Silkie chicken is a common poultry ingredient in Chinese medicinal cooking. It's very interesting you use it as an ingredient for pie. The delicate flavours are just amazing, not to mention the outstanding colours contrast with the golden hues of the filling and crust and this adds a nice visual characteristic too",_ said the short, bald judge next to Senzaemon- _dono_.

" _The taste of the pie filling just continues to linger in my mouth and won't leave! Look at the pie-gravy. It's so smooth, thick and viscous. It holds together really well and not watery at all. It coats the black silkie chicken flesh all over. I don't taste anything like corn-starch or any added thickeners. How did you do it?"._

" _It's all in the stock. Instead of just poaching the chicken, I've also boiled ten pairs of silkie chicken feet!"._

Yozora pieced it all together. Chicken feet was the part of the chicken that contained the most gelatin. Adding chicken feet to the stock to increase the gelatin content made the filling thicker and stickier. The gravy of the pie greatly affects the flavour of the dishes. The filling was filled with gelatin rich silkie chicken essence.

' _The gelatin stimulates the back of the tongue and soft palate, which are highly sensitive. With every mouthful, those parts of the mouth get pinned down with thick and sticky gravy. This dish excites not only a person's senses via flavour, but also their sense of touch via textures... This Houjou chef is REALLY good'._

The judges began to talk amongst each other as the wooden boards were taken away by event assistance. Suddenly, The Director stood up and boomed.

" _Handeth me mine brush!"._

Yozora held his breath, watching the huge roll of calligraphy paper cascade across the stadium with the muscle-bound Demon Food King of Japan brandishing his colossal writing brush.

" _The winner is…HOUJOU MIYOKO!"._

Yozora collapsed onto the sofa seat beside Nakiri, the female student jolted from the impact, almost falling in his direction before settling herself upright again. She sucked her teeth at him in annoyance. That was one hell of a judging. He wasn't there for the battle, but he was sure Yukihira-kun would regale all about it to him later.

"So what did you want to ask me?".

Yozora lolled his head to the side to look at Nakiri. She was fiddling on her phone, probably looking at her calendar for meetings and stuff. Yozora felt too lazy to re-adjust his posture so he continued to speak to her from his lop-sided position.

"Mimasaka Subaru. You know him?".

Nakiri turned her head slowly at him. She blinked a few times and then scoffed.

"Everybody knows him. I'm surprised you don't".

"I guess he's escaped my notice".

"Why come to me?".

"Because you're on the Elite Ten Council, you must have information about him that isn't just hear-say".

Nakiri bristled and then sighed. She leaned back against the plush back rest and crossed her legs the other way. From this angle he could see her legs so clearly. Damn it, those socks! Why did they have to reach so high for skirts _that_ short? First it was the dishevelled sleeping _yukata_ which teased him with Nakiri's cleavage and decolletage back at _Tootsuki_ Resort when they fell together, just before she did his head in. Now it was the navy blue really high socks which hugged her thick and supple thighs like a second skin. Just a strip of creamy pale skin tantalised his roving eyes. There were too many weaknesses after weaknesses wearing him down. Pretty girls have scary superpowers. He was such a pathetic sucker for _zettai ryouiki…_

Yozora curbed himself and averted his gaze before she caught him. His headphones started digging into his neck and his neck was cramping up so he lifted himself off. He crossed his leg just in case he was going to pitch a semi against his will. Being attracted to Nakiri was so tiresome.

"I ran into him yesterday after Hayato-kun's and Aldini's match. He said really nasty things about Hayato-kun for no reason".

Nakiri turned her body more towards him as he spoke. It moved Yozora to find her concern for his cresting anxiety was actually present in her sudden change in posture.

"What's his deal?".

Yozora didn't care how much Nakiri thought about his inquiry. It probably sounded so random and pointless to her. He needed to get to the bottom of this and possibly stop Mimasaka from causing any trouble for him and _The Guild_ before it started. He leaned forward and angled his body to face her. His disarray of inky tresses lightly brushed over his eyes as he peered up at her, waiting for her response.

"As a chef, Mimasaka is despicable. He has no respect for the tools or ingredients in culinary art. You could search the world over and you wouldn't find a restaurant that would take him on. All he cares about is winning. He sets his sights on a student and then researches everything he can about them. He uses taunts, threats and blackmail to goad them into a _shokugeki_. So far he's won over ninety _shokugekis_ ".

Yozora blanched. Yikes, a guy with his looks and obsessiveness of a stalker was a horror he wouldn't wish upon anyone except their long term opposing team on _Starcraft_ and arch nemeses. He remembered those malicious dark and beady eyes roving over his form so meticulously and he had felt like he was being stripped. He definitely didn't want to come across him again, especially in a dark alley. A new fear exploded in his chest. Mimasaka was an expert in uncovering information, analysing and researching people to death… His worst nightmare came to fruition and his stomach dropped with dread. He already knew deep and dark things about Hayato-kun that only he, Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ knew!

 _What else did he know about them?!_

 _Fuck._

"What's his specialty?".

"He doesn't have one".

"You're joking".

"Does it look like I am?!".

Nakiri slammed her hands onto the seat cushion between them. How did he trigger her?! Her thighs pressed together tightly as she leaned towards him with a beautiful growl adorning her face. Yozora could only stare back at her in mild surprise. Her pink lips looked different… they were shiny… is she wearing a balm with sheen? That was worth at least a thousand _damage points…_

He pulled back.

"I'm sorry. Keep going". He coughed into his fist.

Nakiri returned to her position and folded her arms beneath her generous bust.

"After analysing his research, he anticipates what dish his opponent is making… and then makes the exact same dish himself with a few minor changes to take is one step further. He makes minor adjustments to key features of his dishes until he has reduced its inferiorities into almost zero. That is how he wins".

That was some nasty _cheat_. Was it _ghosting?_ Or _stream sniping?_ No… he couldn't think of a _cheat_ that matched the despicable things Mimasaka did.

"All that, just to _win?"._

"He abuses the _shokugeki_ system for his own personal entertainment. In all of his matches, he forces the opponent put their knives that holds the most significant or sentimental value up for stakes. By winning them, he grinds their pride into dirt".

Yozora grimaced. Disgust filled his being. There was a poetic tragedy to that. If the chef was a _samurai,_ and their special kitchen knife was their _katana,_ then this was like having their very life taken from them as a _samurai's katana_ represented their soul and personal honour. He had no idea what Mimasaka even did with the knives, but he owned the honour and prides of ninety-nine _Tootsuki_ students, stashed in a personal collection.

"What does he want with me… or Hayato-kun", Yozora murmured.

"Maybe he wants your kitchen knives too", said Nakiri.

"They're not that valuable… and we don't have personal attachments to them either".

Yozora scratched his head and exhaled loudly. He felt like storming off. _The Guild_ was supposed to garner more attention and recognition for their skills in the gourmet food world. This year, he was supposed to lead them into the elite limelight and showcase their unique take on harmonising the culinary arts with video-game music. _Now_ they have a creepy mother-fucker who took _too much_ interest and so knew way too much! The universe was absolutely unbalanced.

" _Ladies and gentleman! Thank you for waiting. Let's get ready for our next match! Today we have_ _ **Yoshino Yuuki**_ _versus_ _ **Mimasaka Subaru!**_ _"._

' _HUH?!'._

The gamer-chef launched himself to the glass window and braced his palms on the cold pane. Mimasaka is competing now?!

" _The theme is…_ _ **barbeque!**_ **".**

.

.

.

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

' _Unlucky girl'._

Erina watched Yoshino get played like a rag doll in the cruel hands of a big spoilt child. Mimasaka pulled her strings too easily. The ginger haired game-meat expert was far too emotional for her own good. Her frustrations and panic only fuelled her recklessness. Erina remembered Yoshino Yuuki as an easily excited and over-exhuberant girl who was always mucking around with Yukihira when given the chance. She was the female class clown who made silly skits in the back and was always laughing. She was thoroughly annoying with her immature twin buns and ridiculously coloured hair. Yoshino had moved about her kitchen station as if there was a hurricane in her, desperate to get away from Mimasaka's diabolical plans. She pushed and pushed to re-create her recipe but time forced her to keep cooking and back onto her original tracks. She moved like her brain was demanding the energetic expenditure of an athlete. Her panicked face was wild with fear.

Yoshino had lost concentration.

It was too bad. Her **barbeque smoked goat and tamarind glaze** looked decent.

' _He did not spin this into a shokugeki. How out of character_ _… I wonder why_ _'._

Yoshino had already boarded the train to her destination and she couldn't find any detours. Her reckless and pathetic attempts to break free and ad-lib her barbeque dish were pitiful. Whenever she did manage to change tracks, Mimasaka only gleefully revealed how all this time, Yoshino had been chugging in circles on his palm, a slave to him. She was never able to break free of her shackles. Mimasaka's research wasn't limited to the opponent's dishes. He studied the _person_ inside and out. The devil was in the details. He went as far as delving into the opponents' personal life and he traces their personality so well that he could just become their doppelganger. Erina looked at Mitsunaga from the side. His fingers were laced in front of his mouth and his knees jigged up and down relentlessly. His shoulders were bunched up and tensed on and off so much that his silver headphones slid up and down his neck every now and then. Out of all people, he went to her to ask all about Elite Ten level information about Mimasaka. He glared at the television screen as if intending to vapourise it. His acidic and slicing blue eyes sent chills up her spine. Nobody she knew could match their bright intensity and it sent a flutter in her stomach.

' _So what if he's an ex-classical musician… Is there something else that he's SO scared of people finding out… Mitsunaga…?'._

Erina tried her best not to fidget but it was impossible for her to not react in an unbecoming way. Every time he was near she couldn't think straight and her skin becomes so sensitive to temperature and touch! Just one wave on his hand sent his deodorant in her direction, or one dip of the sofa cushion convinced gravity to pull her to him. All these factors and more threatened to expose her over-zealous temptation to just grab hold of him and end the turbulent flurry of supercharged emotions that plagued her fluctuating heart! She blamed the _shoujou manga for tainting her mind!_

"Damn it… even when Yoshino-san went through all the trouble to learn how to smoke her goat meat with hickory woodchips with Ibusakai-kun for her barbeque dish… Mimasaka just screws her over by blending his hickory woodchips with cherry woodchips to get one leg over her", said Yozora.

Erina flicked her hair over her shoulder. The animosity lining his low voice sent them into a guttural growl. Hickory wood chips are one of the few that could stand up against game meat like goat. Goat meat was perfect for smoking because of its leanness. Barbeque was a tricky thing. Cooking over open flame was harder than cooking on a kitchen stove due to the intense heat but its charcoal flavours when done correctly was exceptional to meat and vegetables. But this was _Tootsuki._ Students needed to demonstrate they could go beyond what they were taught and come up with different ideas to surpass their predecessors.

 _Smoking_ the marinated meat before barbecuing wasn't too bad of an idea. Smoke and barbecue went hand in hand. The smoking process tenderises the meat and adds another layer of flavour. Unfortunately for Yoshino, a blend of hickory and cherry wood chips ups the game of the mild fruit woods. It also imparts that deep golden brown finish to the goat meat too.

Yoshino was a hundred years too early to go up against Mimasaka.

' _And the winner is… MIMASAKA SUBARU!'._

Predictable. Erina pulled out her phone and logged into the _Tootsuki Student Portal._ Finding what she was looking for was quick work.

"Here. This is a list of Mimasaka's _shokugeki_ records".

Mitsunaga still looked vexed as he blinked awake after boring holes in the window and looked at her. He lifted his chin away from his hands with a heavy sigh. He looked murderous and Erina refrained from asking why he was _that_ worked up for a cretin like Mimasaka. She'd be hard pressed to say he wasn't contemplating a way to put Mimasaka into the ground the first chance he got. She willed enough courage to scoot closer to him and showed him her phone screen. He appeared a lot less peeved now that she got his attention. He plucked it out of her hands with his longer and bonier fingers before she could stop him, and starting scrolling with his other finger.

"Wow. All these dishes are _identical_ and he's— Oh whoops".

His eyes widened into saucers. Erina's jaw dropped open in horror.

"Hey! Don't go through my tabs, you clumsy idiot!".

It was clearly an accident on Mitsunaga's part for pressing the wrong part of the touch screen, but it was no mere accident that he just kept going without her consent! She tried to snatch her phone from him but caught air when Mitsunaga thrusted his long arms up! What was he doing?! How rude! Erina shrieked as he blatantly ignored her, the bastard! Erina dug her nails into his shoulders as she hauled herself over him to grab at her precious phone. Mitsunaga proved to be a stubborn obstacle. He twisted his shoulder free from the grasp Erina had around it.

"Give it back!".

"Hold up".

The insufferable misfit turned his back to her, preventing her from reaching. Erina took a handful of his blazer sleeve and tried to drag it back down with all her might, but he was far too strong.

"What's this? Searches for _Aerith's Theme_ on _Youtube?"._

"Hey!".

In his arrogant triumph, a vicious and knowing smirk smeared his face. _Oh no!_ _He found out!_ Just a small pouting of his lips, a narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head. It was so subtle yet, it was so infuriating for Erina who caught a glimpse of it just after her mistake in handing him her phone! He pulled his brows into feigned curiosity; an act of pure cheekiness that made Erina wished her frying pan was here so she could dent his handsome face with it!

"I didn't think you'd remember this song _at all._ Let's see what other video-game music you've found".

"Stop it!".

Erina resorted to diving onto his back, but Mitsunaga stood right up from the sofa and continued going through her search history with his arm well over their heads. His nimble thumb quickly swiped across her screen. Stupid tall people! Erina couldn't compare to him. In her panic, she lost balance and slid down his body. Her breast, embarrassingly enough, got caught in the folds of her blazer, causing a friction that shocked at how frighteningly good that felt. Erina pulled herself together and stepped onto the sofa aiming to add more height over the tall freak. However, with a smooth, deft fluidity, Mitsunaga snatched her around the waist with his other arm and pulled her off before her feet could find securely plant her feet in the soft cushions, and right into his chest! Her breath was knocked out of her lungs in one frightful gasp as she plastered against him.

"Ah…!".

She pushed off the planes of his chest and tried with all her power to be indifferent and ignore the hard, lean muscles melding against her body in a hot tightness. His fingers had hooked around the swell of her hips, effectively trapping her. Her frenetic heart pumped all the blood to her face as she blustered with indignation. Within his strong hold, she shot her arm up and tried to slap his forearm to release her captive phone. It wouldn't do to let someone with an ego as his to know how much power he had over her! Mitsunaga suddenly whirled around, his elbows still locked around her waist, keeping her at his mercy as he rested the majority of his weight against the glass window with his back.

" _Tifa's Theme… Prelude…"._ He grunted when her elbow got him in the face, but he still wouldn't let up. _"_ You're going through a whole playlist here, Nakiri".

Her face was dangerously close to his throat. The tip of her nose just brushed against his Adam's Apple and she felt the tingling low timbre of his voice box. She didn't need to be looking directly into his face to know the bastard was grinning!

" _Mitsunaga!"._

 _Bi-bi-bi-bi-bi…! Bi-bi-bi-bi-bi…! Bi-bi-bi-bi-bi…!_

The soft vibration against her thigh momentarily broke her out of the rage-filled haze. Mitsunaga's momentary distraction gave Erina the final edge to launch up and finally snagged her phone from his fingers as he accidentally lowered his arm. She broke free from his arm and stumbled backwards with her phone clutched to her chest. She heaved and she sniffed, _so_ close to tears. That was the last time she'd help him with anything!

"Hey Hayato-kun".

Erina began to hastily erase her browser history. URGH! How embarrassing! To think that _he_ would find out. Not even Hisako knew she was surfing YouTube for this inferior type of music. No matter how beautiful and evocative some of the orchestral pieces sounded, video-games were still flagrant filth. She wasn't even searching for the normal ones, she had been looking at _piano_ versions. Was it so bad that she was looking up piano music?! So what if it was not an elite genre like classical, it wasn't like she liked it that much or anything! She was curious! She wanted to know what the hell was so appealing about this genre that it warped and twisted Mitsunaga's thinking that they were good enough for him to create _haute cuisine_ recipes out of it. Her eyes watered with frustration. She'd rather be dead than having this embarrassing revelation be her undoing.

" _YO-KUN WHERE ARE YOU?!"._

Erina winced at the shrill and static-filled voice. She looked over to see Mitsunaga's face scrunched up as if in stinging pain as he held his phone far from his ears. A cacophony of background noises exploded from it with shouting and yelling embedded in the horribly grating voice of Ginsekai. She took one look out the window to see that the noisy students were being ushered out of the stands.

"Out in the courtyard". Mitsunaga grunted indifferently.

" _This is the second time, dude! I saved your seat on Day One and I saved you a seat today! Both times you didn't come back! There are poor and starving kids in Africa who don't have chairs you know?!"._

Erina slipped her phone into her skirt pocket and proceeded to finger-comb her hair, making sure to get all the knots so that it was back to being straight and tidy. She fixed up her ruined school bow tie and patted down her skirt. She fanned her face with her hands. There shouldn't be any evidence that she had a rough-and-tumble with Mitsunaga. Ginsekai's shrill was so loud that it was equivalent to being on speaker phone at full volume. Any louder, then Ginsekai might as well be in the room with them. Even Mitsunaga didn't bother to press it to his ear. He just held the receiving end to his lips as if this was a regular occurrence. The raven-haired student carded his fingers through his dark sleep-skewed locks.

"Sorry, I'll make it up to you".

 _"You better!_ _My eyes miss nothing! You know, I saw you at ground level with Nakiri Erina during Yukihira-kun's and Nakiri Alice's match on Day One! You ditched me for her! And I bet you were hanging out with her again, weren't you?!"._

"…".

Erina reeled back. The razor sharp lecture for his inappropriate behaviour and misconduct towards her died on her tongue.

' _Why wasn't he denying it?!'._

She stared back at him with wide eyes, bemused with his lack of answer. He just stared off into the distance, his iridescent azure irises wandering around.

" _You could've told me from the start, Yo-kun! You like her, don't you!"._

Erina blushed crimson. Her feet were rooted to her spot; her hand was tight against her sternum. She hadn't realised how tight they were until she inadvertently wedged the crescent of her fingernails deeper into her palm. The severity of the physical kept her muscles taut with apprehension towards the gamer-chef for his answer.

' _He knows I can hear all that!'._

"…I guess".

An influx of emotion stripped every nerve ending from her body. What did he mean by that?! Did he forget she was standing just two metres away from him? His throaty admission rocked her mind, leaving it moving in foreign ways.

" _What…? I FUCKING KNEW IT! Ever since I saw you two in the Rapport Building Training camp! So when are you going to put the moves on her?!"._

Mitsunaga cocked his head slightly over his shoulder in her direction. He shifted his neck ever so slightly and pinned Erina with darkening crystalline blue eyes from the corner of his feline eyes. The disturbing and ferocious change in those twin abysmal orbs carved into her loins. The glint of blue embers in their depths had her _twitching._

"In about two minutes".

" _BWAHAHAHA_ _! Good one, Yo-kun! I haven't laughed this hard since ladder-goat. I'm heading back to the clubroom so I'll see you later! Bye!"._

The phone screen blanked out after Ginsekai hung up. Mitsunaga dropped his arm to his side, his phone dangled from his fingers. Her ears rang from the sudden loss of Ginsekai's string of noisy outbursts, plummeting the room in a deafening and thick stillness.

No way. None of that meant anything. Her hot fury evaporated and all that was left was cold-numbness. Erina quickly ferreted through her pockets looking for anything to busy herself with. The door was right there in full view, looming at her, nothing in her way. She could easily just walk around the sofa, dash to the door and leave… but a part of her didn't want to. She couldn't find a single spot to look at as Mitsunaga was still in the room.

He began tapping his finger against the hard plastic back of his phone, still in his grip as if he was thinking hard about something.

It was too loud.

 _Tap… tap… tap…_

"W-We should leave now. T-They need time to clean up the arena and I-I have work to do".

Erina cleared her throat and started to tidy the coffee table. Isshiki- _senpai's_ and her files were still spread over the surface. She hastily grabbed them. She gathered them into both her hands and tapped the bottom edge against the wood to make sure they were all lined up. Feeling entirely uncomfortable with _bending over the coffee table_ , she flounced back into the sofa. The quietude was killing her. Her heart jumped right into her throat, beating even more rapidly that when she had been wrestling for her phone. No, no, no Mitsunaga was just spouting nonsense. _Joking._ It was just as Ginsekai had claimed. He didn't mean anything by what he said. He was just mocking her in another way.

"Stupid Isshiki- _senpai_ , leaving me to clean up after him…". She seethed through gritted teeth a she roughly re-arranged the files.

 _Tap…tap…tap…_

She didn't really know what she was saying. She just wanted to fill her mouth with words so she wouldn't go mad. As much as the thought of Mitsunaga's indirect confession brought a warm, blossoming heat in the pits of her stomach, she psychologically hoped this was all a dream and they'd all return back to being classmates that didn't speak to each other. No more, no less. Another realisation came hammering down.

' _He's still here…'._

The room was too small.

Erina slowed her movements and long strands of her hair slid from her shoulders, forming a curtain to shield her face. If she turned her head carefully enough, she could still see his shoes. Before Erina could conjure up another meaningless sentence, he took a slow, stoic step in her direction.

He took another…

 _Tap…tap…tap…_

… and then another.

She broke out into a cold sweat. The static in the air pimpled her arms with goose-bumps. Every coherent thought she possessed was seized and shamelessly tunnelled towards him. He was like a beacon for her attention and when Mitsunaga finally slowed a step away from her, only to crouch down beside the coffee table where she was fruitlessly shuffling through files, the sheer _close proximity_ was so overwhelming that she bit her lip to stifle a whimpering gasp. Erina brushed her hair out of her face to stop it sticking to her sweaty skin, and leaned back, out of pure wariness. It was a big mistake. She couldn't prepare herself in time for an onslaught of hypnotic cobalt blue, his invigorating stares doing more harm to her than he'd ever realise. He bent one knee into the carpet and drew closer. He splayed the tips of his fingers right by her feet and she had the horrible vision of those very fingers clasping around her ankle, shackling her from escape. Then he lifted the other long arm and rested his elbow against the sofa armrest, caging her to the sofa. His long index finger continued to move up and down like a bamboo fountain.

 _Tap…tap…tap…_

Then the way he cocked his head to the side and was inching his face up towards her was enough to make her squirm. The tapered ends of his dark locks brushed against his high cheekbones, just by his unforgivingly mesmerising eyes. The warm cascade of his breath against her torrid cheeks was intoxicating. He halted.

 _Tap…tap…tap…_

His lips were a _devastating_ ten centimetres away from her mouth.

"… The last four seconds is _yours…"._

A low gruff… _insatiable_ whisper.

This display of predatory assertion should have troubled Erina, but it didn't…

… It had quite the opposite effect…

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

Hayato knew that his best friend was already in the clubroom when his fingers latched onto the unlock handle. Man! What a day! He grinned and pushed the sliding door wide open.

"Hey, Yo-kun".

The soft lights casted their clubroom in a shining glow, highlighting the painstaking hygiene Kasai-senpai and Tsurugi-senpai drilled into their heads in middle school. Yo-kun had his elbows propped on their clubroom's kitchen bench with a rather indolent expression on his face. Sat in front of him was his laptop with _The Guild's_ blog post up and running. The cursor zipped here and there clicking on random links and scrolling up and down through their blog inbox. Hayato kicked over a stool and plonked himself next to his buddy. Yo-kun yawned like a lion lazing in the hot Savanah sun, before his eye-lids eclipsed his glazed orbs, staring blankly at the bright laptop-screen, super close to nodding off.

"Interesting conversation we had just then". Hayato jested.

"Hmmm…".

Yo-kun didn't appear to be fully listening but Hayato knew that wasn't the case.

The first person shooter enthusiast dragged his pale lips over his teeth to reveal his spiraling glee. He was such a hypocrite… he begged and begged to Kami-sama that Yo-kun wasn't getting his funk on for Nakiri Erina. The girl spelt trouble because of her total _himedere_ personality. She was the totally the opposite of Yo-kun too, so there was no way they'd mesh well. Hayato honestly didn't see what was so good about her, or why Yo-kun found even the slightest appeal in her. Hayato pinpointed the burgeoning attraction between his best-friend and the Nakiri to be around the Rapport Building Training Camp during the first few days. And then, almost breaking his knuckles for her? Since when did Yo-kun turn into this chivalrous and gentlemanly monster?

Maybe this abhorrent attraction for Nakiri was just a result of some sort of brain damage from almost cracking his head open on the koi pond because of her inability to control her temper… but he digressed.

He'd seen the way Yo-kun looked at her. His steady unblinking gaze found purchase on her form whenever the opportunity arose. Before class, during class and after class. It often left Hayato feeling a bit ignored… He'd purged those memories. He pushed those instances away, telling himself that they were nothing, they didn't mean anything, Nakiri just happened to be in Yo-kun's line of vision all the time for some divine reason. It was tough to see his best friend look elsewhere… But when his sniper-like eyes spied the two of them together at the entrance where Nakiri Alice emerged to battle against Yukihira-kun on Day One, that was when he knew he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

…Because of that _look_ on his face when he was with her…

 _Yo-kun had feelings for Nakiri Erina._

"Out of all people, it's Nakiri huh? You know, I honestly can't tell if you're out of her league… or _she's_ the one out of _your_ league".

Hayato tapped his finger against his chin as if the question he posed was so philosophical in nature and its answer could prove to be so profound it could rock the foundations of human existentialism.

"Hmmm…".

Hayato sighed and rapped his fingers on the metal bench top. The typing and clicking on the laptop punctuated the air.

"You're such a liar. You weren't in the courtyard. You were actually _still_ with Nakiri somewhere in the stadium weren't you? Were you two together in the Elite Ten viewing box?".

"Hmmm…".

The pestering game was getting Hayato nowhere but he persisted. Yo-kun's lack of denials or affirmation was driving him up the wall! He had always prided himself on being the expert in reading Yo-kun's emotions and behaviour but this was a real challenge. Yo-kun's face was schooled so carefully, he could be mistaken for a marble statue frozen in a perpetual state of blankness.

The assenting noises must be Yozora-nese for 'yes'.

"I saw her bolting across the courtyard when I came out of the arena, carrying a bunch of files. I've never seen her look so red and panicky before! What happened?".

"Hmmm…".

Hayato twisted around and dropped his head to Yo-kun's level, trying to get him to meet his gaze. Nothing, his eyelids were drooping further as Yo-kun seemed to actually really be falling into his routine nap. It was around that time after all. Yo-kun's daily naps have been disturbed in recent weeks due to the competition and other _quests_ happening around them. Not to mention Yukihira-kun's and Polar Star's involvement in their lives rocked their world hard enough to dislodge off their axis. Now there was Nakiri Erina, distracting Yo-kun from _The Guild_ with her womanly wily ways. Hayato pouted. He had never known Yo-kun to like anyone of the opposite sex before… he guessed he'd just have to be the good friend and support him and his conquest for high-school romance like in the _manga_ and _anime_. Besides this was Yo-kun. Mitsunaga Yozora. If _he_ liked Nakiri despite all her flaws… then maybe there was something _good_ about her after all. Something worth pursuing.

Oh.

"Holy shit! That two-minute warning wasn't a joke after all! Dude!… So did you do it? Make a move on Nakiri?".

He he did, he was straight up going on the 'Wall of Fame' for successfully chatting up a bloody rich girl. Yo-kun finally stretched up and yawned. His lips muffled a grunt against his forearm as he lazily surfed through their blog was barely audible, but his eyes seemed to have successfully resisted the power of sleep and brightened up a bit too much. Well… Nakiri fleeing the scene was very telling indeed. Her hair whipped back and forth behind her and dust kicked up at such speed. As she ran, she was using her forearms to cover her _lips_ – OHHHHH.

"…Stop looking so proud of yourself".

 _"Hmmm…"._

.

.

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* * *

.

.

.

"EH!? Erina!".

The whirlwind force of her stoic and uptight gold-top cousin sent her careening to the side only to be caught by Ryou-kun's outstretched hand. What the hell was going on with her!

Alice had let herself into Erina's Elite Ten office when she found out that her guard dog Hishoko had taken a leave of absence to wallow in her failure against Hayama. That meant Erina was left in charge of locking and unlocking her own office and the Princess was hopeless at remembering secretarial thinks like that. Erina was such a ditz. The two matches today left her feeling _so_ sorry for Polar Star. Two losses in a row. Yukihira was one win for them so far, but she wouldn't dwell on that. That gamer-chef match with the _Italianesk_ yesterday was quite interesting, it was something to talk about to Ryou-kun just to rile him up further and continue to remind him that he might have a chance against the _other_ gamer-chef in the quarter-finals if he makes it with a healed hand. Alice had been lounging in Erina's office waiting for her cousin to come back to have a bit of girl talk. While she left Ryou to his own devices, she occupied herself with snooping around her desk for the hell of it. When she got bored and moved onto the bookshelf and that was when Erina rammed with her hair everywhere and blustering through the double doors at _shinkansen_ speed, knocked her off her feet and then straight into the private office bathroom!

"Unbelievable! I came to visit you and you just shoved me away like that!" Alice rained her fists against the bathroom door.

"Mi'lady… you were the one who invited yourself into Erina-sama's office without her being there".

"I'm family. I'm allowed". Alice huffed.

How strange, what had happened to send Erina into a tizzy like that? Alice clicked her tongue. She rubbed the tips of her manicured nails against each other as she thought what could have made Erina so flustered and aggravated like that. The only way to know if she got that stupid cousin of her out of their!

"Open up, Erina!". Alice hollered at the wood panel.

" _GO AWAY ALICE!"._ Erina's distraught voice pierced through the hardwood door.

"Not a chance! I'm siting _right_ in front of the door until you come out".

She snapped her fingers and ordered Ryou-kun to pull up one of the heavy guest arm chairs. Yes, the one with the fluffiest cushions for her cute tush. Ryou-kun had deposited the heavy furniture right outside the bathroom door and Alice made herself comfortable in it. She pulled out her phone to surf her many social media accounts while she waited for Erina to stop being a drama queen and fess-up. It wasn't too long before the door budged and Erina revealed herself.

She looked like she had a fever and her hair was a frazzled mess. One day. Just _one_ day without Hishoko.

"Gee… you look like hell". Alice blurted. She threw her phone over her shoulder and Ryou-kun caught it.

"Move".

Her cousin kicked the chair and Ryou-kun pushed it away. Erina stalked over to her desk and dumped the files she had brought with her, not caring that some slid off the table and onto the floor. Okay… this was pretty major and a sapling of concern reached Alice's heart. She'd never seen Erina this worked up this badly before. She watched Erina's face for any signs for what could be wrong but only found that she was nibbling her lips until they were all puckered and red. Okay…? Alice went into serious mode. She rarely did because she preferred to live a light and carefree attitude for life, but when it came to Erina she could be as serious as she needed.

"What happened? Are you okay?".

"Nothing, I'm fine Alice".

"Oh come on! Even _Ryou-kun_ sounds more convincing when he's told me I've already finished eating the gluten-free pudding".

"But you did, M'lady…".

"I know you're hiding them from me!" Alice rounded on her traitorous aide.

"Why are you here, Alice", Erina spat at her.

"Just to hang out, and I'm so glad I came because now I won't leave until you tell me what's wrong". She turned back to Erina and folded her arms.

"If I tell you, would you quit pestering me?". Erina slammed her palm on her desk, her fiery violet eyes shining with a patience stretched too thin.

"Absolutely".

The sigh that escaped Erina's raw lips was slow, as if her brain was still needed more time to catch up with whatever the hell happened to her. Her troubled eyes remained fixed on the table.

"M-Mi… Mitsuna-naga…".

"And…?".

"He… He…".

Erina's fingers flew to her lips, her finger-tips caressing them light. Alice knitted her silver brows. What could Mitsunaga have done? He was just a nobody, nothing worth mentioning really. Sure he got into the _Round of Six,_ and it created a bit of a hooha. The only contact she knew Erina had with the boy was when she whisked him off the preliminary stage over an incapacitated hand. That was a really ballsy move and planted some ideas in Alice's head, but in the end she attributed it to just a one-time thing, never to happen again …

…Unless… Erina's interaction with Mitsunaga… _wasn't_ a one-time thing? Alice gasped. Forget being the caring cousin! Her juicy-gossip senses were tingling! She could feel Ryou-kun's narrowed eyes razing her back. Oh, this would be good.

"What? Did he make a pass at you or something?".

Erina hugged herself with her other arm. Her cousin was usually a drama queen so she eliminated the possibility that something very serious had happen. Besides, Mitsunaga looked like the type of person who wouldn't harm a fly. Yet here was her dearest, sheltered, ignorant and innocent cousin looking utterly vulnerable with that gentle flush of pink arisen on her cheeks. Alice was so excited! Her inappropriate thirst for Erina's mishaps and misadventures with above-average looking, weird and wacky students was just the ticket to bringing back the fun to _Tootsuki_ at Erina's expense. Hishoko was still on her 'Journey for Redemption' or some nonsense, so who would stop her now?

"Why are you rubbing your lips like that? He kissed you?".

As soon as the word 'kiss' left her lips. Erina visibly flinched, taking Alice aback.

Was that… _guilt…_ in her eyes? OH YES!

 _"Åh min gud_ … he didn't kiss you… _you kissed HIM!"._

* * *

 **OHHHHHH… Yozoroa took Erina's initiative to search for the first song they listened to together (Aerith's Theme) as his chance get all fresh with her. But at least he have her a** **2min head-start to scram!**

 **Poor Marui and Yuuki… Next chapter is the final day for the** _ **Round of 16!**_ **So that means, our ex-pianist gamer chef will be in it. Don't worry, there will be actual judges' reaction/feedback for him this time. Just who will our boy be going up against?**

 **In other news, my friend had recently told me that Food Wars manga isn't done yet, and that the story continues into 2nd year... I was like: "E-Fucking-xcuse me? I could've planned** _ **more**_ **content** **for Yozora/Erina** **?!" I HAD NO IDEA. I'll admit, I stopped reading near the end of Hokkaidou Arc because my patient caseload increased two fold. I thought Hokkaidou Arc was the final arc because ANOTHER FRIEND** _ **told**_ **me so! (THANKS A LOT YOU FART-BOX) They gave me a verbal run-down about what happened at the end of Hokkaidou Arc, including who took over the Elite Ten seats and stuff because I didn't have the time to finish reading the manga. He made it sound really final and that Second Year journey was left open to reader's interpretation.**

 **Welp. Looks like I have a lot of catching up to do and will need to plan a sequel for** ** _The Guild._ Hmmm... In Second year, Yozora/Erina will be older... means they will be even more hormonal... and this fic is already rated M... (... I'm gonna have SO much fun with them kek)**

 **That's it from me. Thank you for reading my rambling thoughts, I apologise if it was tedious and boring. Please tune in for next time, and we'll see how the rest of our finalists go!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	13. Sunset Waltz

_Chapter 13 - Sunset Waltz_

* * *

 ** _Round of Sixteen - Final Day_**

" _Today's theme is…_ _ **strawberries and goat cheese!**_ _... begin cooking!"._

The resounding peal of the antique gong raced across the arena and it was most keenly felt by the rag-tag group of _Tootsuki's_ dorm-dwelling ninety-second generation and the odd gamer chef who were front and centre in the stands.

"Ahhhhh~ It's not fair! I don't know who to support, Isami-kun or Ibusaki-kun!".

"Why not both?".

Hayato slapped on his signature smile like second nature and patted Yuuki-chan on the back. He set his mind to be completely normal today. Normal was best. Normal was healthy. Normal helped to heal. Normal was… _the only option_. His foster mother once said nobody would want to be with a depressed boy. So, for many years the depression sat behind his mask and his heart had prayed for a soul to notice. And it happened. Three souls noticed, and things didn't seem bleak anymore.

Yoshino-chan grumbled and chewed on her thumb nail, torn between deciding to support honorary-dorm-mate and their actual dorm-mate. Nobody could fool his eyes. A stone dropped into his stomach. Ripples of resentment welled up inside him to see that the petite girl was doggedly masking the leftover hurt from her loss by Mimasaka Subaru with overwhelming enthusiasm for the rest of the Autumn Elections, and throwing herself into cheering until her throat went raw.

' _It wasn't like she had everything on the line… the pain she feels isn't that worth hiding… don't you agree?'._

He blinked. Huh? His thoughts drowned into muffled echoes. As usual, he felt ashamed… but forgot why…

Anyway! Mimasaka Subaru was a piece of work. Yoshino-chan had the worst opponent in history! What was that guy's problem!? Why didn't he get a _red-card_ or something for trash-talking?! Hayato shook his head and picked through his fringe, ensuring it was still in the right twist and place with his hair-gel. Yoshino-chan's warm caramel brown eyes solidified and she sprang up. Her hands were placed akimbo and she puffed out her chest. She shook her head and sniffed.

"No, No. It must be Ibusaki-kun. He spent all day and night with me, teaching me everything about smoking meat for my match. It was a huge ask, but he didn't hesitate. I went ahead and lost so it was all a waste. I need to fully support him, _be damned Isami-cchi!"._

"Hey, that's my brother you're talking about".

Hayato grinned sheepishly at Takumi Aldini coming their way. He was sporting a sour glare, which he was well within his rights. Hayato chuckled as loudly as he could to diffuse the misunderstanding which earned him a confused look from his ex-opponent because it came out as an awkward squawk. Takumi-kun was becoming a regular in joining the Polar Star Dorm's Cheering Squad. Takumi-kun glided down the steps until he reached their seats. The first time Hayato laid eyes on him in middle school, he thought he was a total _Italian_ pimp and never intended to cross paths with him and his brother. The twins had girls trailing them! But it turned out, Takumi-kun was denser than a rock. He had no idea that his handsomeness had instigated a dedicated fan club in his honour and Hayato thought that was mind-bogginly amazing that he powered through _Tootsuki_ this long without noticing. What a fucking legend. Not only that, despite the flawless skin, high cheek-bones, perfect brows and hair, stylish clothes and the coveted Eurasian features, the ease in which the guy got embarrassed or flustered by the mere presence of Yukihira Souma was just tragic. He swore like a sailor which was fun. Hayato guessed, even _Kami-sama_ deemed it necessary to bestow a flaw on what was otherwise the ideal _bishounen_ which the majority of the female population of _Tootsuki_ wanted a piece for themselves.

' _He's surprisingly down to Earth'._

If he was honest, Hayato would say their high-strung match made them a lot closer. He could feel it in the way the normally mild-mannered Italian addressed him and spoke to him with more respect and passion. He supposed _cooperative play_ with Yo-kun during Chef Inui's assignment in the _Rapport Building Dungeon_ had paved the way for that first. Hayato also the similar hair and eye colour was a triviality that sparked more fun interest for him.

"Ah Ginsekai-san. _Buon giorno!_ ".

"G'Morning!".

The gentle and kind smile from the blonde Italian temporarily dazzled Hayato. Yep, Takumi-kun could totally switch from an offensive and strength character like a _paladin_ when facing his opponents, and a charming spell-casting support like a _bard._ He wouldn't look half bad toting a lute actually; the European instrument and his European features would suit. It was a lot easier to be around Takumi-kun than he'd thought. The guy was actually really sensitive. The greatest thing Hayato feared when bumping into him again was that he'd take pity straight away. His hands had even traced the 'noise-cancelling' button of his headphones on reflex as his first line of defense. To his great joy and relief, Takumi-kun immediately treated him as if he was a life-long _party member_ and even asked him more about video-game music and video-games. Hayato admired Takumi-kun's profile from the corner of his eyes. The steely determination and pride streamed from his persona was sure something. Damn, his posture was so good. How did stand with a straight back like that every day? With his head leveled and confident like that all the time?

He clenched his hands.

' _Why can't I…'._

"I'm sure, Yoshino-chan didn't mean it that way!", shouted Hayato. Phew! That was close.

"Sorry Takumi-cchi".

"That's alright. How's Mitsunaga-san?", asked Takumi-kun, even though his clear eyes were transfixed on Isami-kun's amazing speed in preparing his ingredients, a clear sign of his ability to split his attention.

"His hand's all healed up, so nothing to hold him back! YOU GUYS WAIT AND SEE WHAT THE _GUILD MASTER_ IS CAPABLE OF!".

"Woah, cool your jets, Ginsekai! His match is _later!"_ , Daigo-kun yelled back.

"My bad!".

Hayato quickly spun around and leaned over the metal railing, sweat dripped from his neck from being yelled at. The morning he heard from Yoshino-chan that Ibusaki-kun and Isami-kun were going to battle it out, he was so excited. Yo-kun was scheduled for later and the sleepy nut-sack refused to tell him who he was matching up against. Said 'nut-sack' was so out of it this morning that he forgot that there was only _one_ other finalist left, so it was really a no-brainer… It was the sweet mocha-skinned Goddess gifted to the Earth by _Kami-sama_ himself! He could cry! His _first_ best friend battling against his _first_ love… the universe was cruel. He'd give anything just to catch a whiff of her beautiful essence in the throes of battle.

So Yoshino-chan had no rights complaining about who she should side with!

Hayato shook his head and focused on the match ahead. Watching Isami-kun go with frightening speed was exhilarating. It seemed just like yesterday that he would make a perfect Santa Claus if one stuck a wig, fake snowy white beard and brows on him. The Aldini Weight-loss was a phenomenon. On the other-hand, Ibusaki-kun's calm and focused composure was pretty daunting but cool to see. Strawberries and goat cheese! Wow! Those flavours were matches made in heaven. He had a few song choices from their _Hidden Tracks_ that could possibly use strawberries and goat cheese ranging from dessert to savoury dishes, but he'd look into it later.

' _Let's commit all these battle moves to memory, shall we?'._

From what Hayato could scope out, Isami-kun was definitely making a pasta or pastry related dish. His gaze was unwavering and unabashed. He had already seen the brunette Italian perfectly scrape out the vanilla pods, his blade coated in gorgeous black speckles. He expertly combined flour, eggs, oil, sugar and the vanilla seeds into a small food processor, pulsing it at an _adagio_ until Hayato could spy the smooth consistency from inside the plastic capsule. Interesting… not pasta then? Even the shine of the sugar crystals in the mix caught his sight and he licked his lips. _Kami-sama,_ he'd do anything for some strawberry _Pocky_ right now. His baby-blue eyes diligently followed the next steps.

Isami-kun dumped his gooey dough out onto the generously floured bench top. His forearm muscles flexed and rippled as he pressed the heel of his palms into the yielding pale-yellow mixture. His hands worked the dough gently yet vigorously. A lover's passionate care, it would be. The controlled rhythmic pressing behind those strong palms as they felt and massaged the dough exuded with the younger Aldini's intensity, dedication and love for his culinary art. In no time at all, the dough transformed into a firm, silky smooth mass, perfectly elastic and ready to go. If the dough had a mouth, it would've sighed and whimpered after all that hand-work. Isami-kun then wrapped the dough in cling film and let it to have its well-deserved rest in the fridge.

' _Who said that Isami-kun was second-rate? Those numb-skulls can't see what's in front of their eyes'._

Hayato leaned back and crossed his arms. He cocked his head to the side as his gaze continued to track up and down the kitchen bench, noticing all the other ingredients Isami-kun had on hand. He grabbed the goat's cheese, caster sugar and cream. He pulled out another food-processer, but smaller and poured them all in. He whizzed it all up, pulsing again at _adagio_ just like the dough, but stepping out of time every now and then as Isami-kun judged the consistency for himself. Hayato knew an auditory hallucination when he heard one. He had a lot of those while watching other students cook. Right now he was listening to a sexy classical piece as he watched Isami-kun create his dish with those hands of his. Isami-kun was the composer and Hayato transcribed it in a language he understood. A dish was a delicate balance of taste, flavours, colours, textures, presentation and plating. It was just like how a musical piece was a balance of rhythm, melody, harmony, timbre, form, texture and dynamics. All these elements when used by the artist could create an artful masterpiece.

"Hey sorry I'm late".

"Eh? Yukihira-kun? You finally made it!" screeched Yoshino-chan.

Hayato broke his concentration and turned just in time to see one more _party member_ sauntering in. he regarded the red-head student who squeezed his way into the middle of the group. He accepted one of Yoshino-chan's support-flags on the way, eyeing it with amusement. He landed between himself and Takumi-kun. Hayato chuckled at the perfectly executed eye-roll from the blonde Aldini who quickly returned his focus to his brother's match. He was getting used to Yukihira's misdemeanours, but was still disapproving of it. But Yukihira looked refreshed as hell. That sleep-in must've done wonders to him. His skin was clear and bright, his eyes were shining and that trillion-yen smile was off the charts. Hayato smacked him on the back, earning Yukihira's attention who blasted him with a blinding smile.

"Hey Ginsekai. Where are we up to now?".

"forty-five minutes in". He reported.

"Great, so I haven't missed all that much". Yukihira rested his hands on the railing and leaned over to get a closer look.

Hayato faced the front again, wanting to see what else Isami-kun was going to do next. He pulled out his dough which had been in the fridge. Amid the flour that covered the kitchen bench sat the pasta machine. One at a time, he fed the dough that he had flattened with his rolling pin through the rollers. Hayato watched it grow ever longer and thinner. He turned the dial to change the roller thickness and sent it in again, over and over until it was a long piece of lustrous rectangle richness. Isami-kun gently lifted and placed them on the lightly floured bench like handling the finest crafted jewels. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that all it was made from was a handful of ingredients, kneaded and shaped. The Aldini had his tongue stuck out from the corner of his lips, something Hayato had observed when he was concentrating really hard. Isami-kun spooned the creamy goat's cheese, cream and sugar mixture carefully onto the flattened dough. They looked like little dollops of fresh snow pushed around by a playful _mini totoro._ Then he sprayed a bit of water onto the whole thing before carefully laying down the other sheet of flattened dough on top.

' _He's making ravioli!'._

Cool! Hayato watched mesmerised as he flattened the spaces between the lumps of filling quickly and thoroughly to remove any air bubbles and seal the edges. His light and dextrous fingers were carefully not to indent the dough too much to ruin the shape, yet they were firm enough to get the job done. Isami-kun' brows were pinching closer and closer together and Hayato sensed a hint of worry or maybe anxiety emanating from the Aldini. He knew that feeling all too well to let it slip by him. Finally, Isami-kun grabbed shining silver cutters and pressed them around each cute lump to pop out his individual _ravioli_ parcels. Ah… so it was going to be a dessert ravioli! The sugar in the dough and sugar in the filling made sense. So what about the strawberry element? Hayato rubbed his chin, eager to find out.

"So… is Mitsunaga and Nakiri dating or something?".

"What the fuck, Yukihira!".

Hayato slapped his hand over the red-head chef's mouth. _Kami-sama!_ He was met by Yukihira's curious amber gaze, which was close to becoming offended. Oh boy… this was going to be all kinds of awkward. His eyes zipped back and forth, spear-heading every single person in Polar Star including Takumi-kun to see if they heard Yukihira. Thankfully, they didn't and were solely focused on the match. Hayato immediately noticed his big mistake. A single crimson brow rose in question. How was he going to dig himself out of this one?! Hayato squared him with a meaningful look, the same kind of look that demanded Yo-kun not to tell Tsurugi- _senpai_ that he devoured the last _pocky_ box in the clubroom. He slowly lifted his palm away from Yukihira's lips, ready to smack it back down if he opened his gob again. Luckily the red-head had some sense, realising this was probably a more delicate matter than a joke.

"Why would you think that?", Hayato murmured close to his ear, trying to compete with the Yuuki-chan's noisy cheering.

"I heard you talking on the phone yesterday".

"Dude".

"It wasn't exactly a quiet conversation".

Hayato sighed in defeat.

"So are they?".

"… No, but he _did_ hit on her and from the looks of it… mission accomplished".

Urgh. He felt gross talking about mushy lovey-dovey stuff! This was girl-talk and why the hell was he having it with Yukihira?!

"Haha! I've always wondered why Mitsunaga's stares in class were getting so creepy, and why Nakiri is always so jumpy around him. It kind of makes sense now. Mitsunaga fancies Nakiri, huh?".

"Yeah… Yo-kun isn't as subtle as he thinks he is. He's a simple guy. If he likes something, he'll pursue it. He's always been that way".

"Aren't gamers or _otakus_ supposed to be really bad at picking up chicks, though?".

"Hey! _We can get girlfriends just fine!_ ".

"I mean, like, three-dimensional ones".

Hayato was flabbergasted beyond repair. Yukihira laughed and it only made Hayato more indignant and his cheeks flared up in deep offense. Take a cheap shot while a guy was down? Lame!

"Yo-kun and I don't do that video _moe_ obsession thing. Brrr… That's weird. But hopefully, Yo-kun could make a huge blunder with her, and then Nakiri could shoot him down, and everything will go back to normal again".

"Harsh, mate. Even for you".

Yukihira fully turned towards him, his elbow resting against the railing and his head tilted to the side, blocking Hayato's view of the stadium. Too late, the blonde gamer chef backed up and was caught in Yukihira's golden gaze. Hayato stared back, determined not to look away first. He was certain Yukihira knew he was hiding something, but was still determined to fool him. He contorted his lips into an awkward, toothy smile, but his cheeks were not so compromising. He could feel their reluctance to be moulded falsely. When Yukihira finally averted his gaze, Hayato-kun's smile fell lifeless, allowed his face to reveal how he truly felt… cold and hard.

"How would you feel if your best friend is about to ditch you for a girl?".

He slouched against the railing hanging his head low, setting his mouth into a semi-pout. Yukihira was like Yo-kun in small ways. They could see through bullshit. Isami-kun's and Ibusaki-kun's match didn't mean a damn thing to him anymore. Hayato tapped his fingers against the cool metal as he replayed the impish smile that slid onto Yo-kun's face when he hummed his answers about Nakiri. He looked like he was about to get his hands on the soon-to-be-released _Play Station 4_ and games, any minute and play with it all night long. No, scratch that… it looked like _more_ and it scared him.

"Hey. I don't know anything about girls and stuff, because you know, I only wanna focus on being the number one in _Tootsuki_ and taking over _Oyaji's_ diner. But I don't believe one girl who caught his fancy is going to make all those years of your friendship unimportant, Ginsekai".

Wow _…_ He hadn't heard shit this real since _Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater._ The guilt fermented and he felt so selfish and foolish. Yukihira was right and he made lots of sense which was alarming. Hayato knew he'd done something pretty awful by admitting all these spiteful thoughts aloud to Yukihira. He hoped he didn't disgust Yukihira. Some innate part figured he'd just even the misery out, by dumping it on another person. It didn't feel good. He'd probably done a bad job at justifying himself. He knew in his heart he should be happy for Yo-kun as he entered in the next stage of life. This was the first time in all his years of _Tootsuki_ that Yo-kun was interested in something other than music, food and games.

 _A girl._

The more demanding the reparations his subconsciousness required, the worse he knew the guilt was. The minute he saw that upturn of Yo-kun's mouth, laying his head beside the laptop in their club-room, about to doze off into a happy dreamy sleep, he thought he would do anything for him, even support this… crush… on Nakiri. Yet here he was, laying the blackness of his heart out to Yukihira Souma.

' _Who am I kidding… I'm just a selfish bastard who doesn't want anything to change. How hateful'._

Yo-kun deserved _better_ from him.

"Fine. I don't like it, but I'll try to accept Yo-kun's feelings for Nakiri. Losing him to a girl is better than winning him back from a heart-break. Yo-kun's happiness is… _more important_ ".

"Hey! That's more like it!".

A great big _thwump_ on his back sent Hayato spluttering. Trust Yukihira Souma to be the one to set things straight in the most unexpected of times. The stinging on his back cleared his mind and cemented his conviction further until a sudden relief washed over him. The world did not make any sense to Hayato, but then the world wasn't obliged to do so. One thing he knew was that he was going to continue to be the best friend that Yo-kun deserved.

' _He was the first one to see me more clearly as a person, than as a dependent orphan'._

Yo-kun was that listening ear, the one who would wrap him up in their never-depleting repository of friendship and good feelings. Yo-kun was his number one supporter, the angel, the hero. He needed to be better than and as sure as _Cthulhu's_ monstrosity he was going to be with everything in his power. He _owed_ Yo-kun at least this much. Hayato scratched the family of freckles on the back of his hand.

Perhaps getting back on track with today's match would help clear his mind a bit better.

Everyone was sniffing the air and he could detect some murmuring of Isami-kun adding his reserve vanilla beans into a pot of boiling water before Yuuki-chan confirmed it by hollering it for everyone to hear. That girl a nifty set of lungs! Isami-kun carefully added his _ravioli_ into the bubbling water, letting it just simmer while he went ahead and prepared the next part of his dish. He propped up another small saucepan and added some sugar, more vanilla and cider. It looked like he was planning to reduce it. Hayato furrowed his brow. What was he doing now…? Pasta had to have sauce or some sort of broth. So dessert pasta had to have something similar right? Sure enough the next thing to go was punnets of strawberries! Hayato could drool right then and there. The crimson and scarlet fruits decorated with little cream-coloured seeds beckoned from Isami's hands.

' _Ah I see… It's_ _ **goat cheese and vanilla ravioli with strawberry broth**_ '.

"Now that's all settled, we wouldn't want to get in Mitsunaga's and Nakiri's way, would we", said Yukihira.

"Yeah. Let's pray for their happiness". Hayato nodded.

"I mean, what are friend's for?". Yukihira flicked his hand.

"…".

"…".

"We're still gonna embarrass the shit out of them".

"For sure".

Who said he couldn't have a bit of fun along the way?

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* * *

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" _Okay Tootsuki! This is our final match of the Round of Sixteen! Put your hands together for our last but not least… Mito Ikumi and Mitsunaga Yozora!"._

The heat and the brightness seared his vision. His eyes squinted to let in only enough light to navigate. He blinked hard to make the coloured spots retreat, until he was surrounded by the great bulk of the arena, with hundreds and hundreds of clapping spectators rising up even higher until they disappeared into the shadows at the very top. His eyes finished adjusting and he took it all in. The thrill of the crowd resonated in his bones as he continued to stride out with his knife-case in hand. Yozora brushed his fringe from his face, but some of it clung onto his forehead while the rest skated back behind his ears. His fingers in their efforts to catch the errant strands landed against his nape. He could never get used to feeling the emptiness on his neck where his earphones used to live. He suppressed a smirk. Instead his earpieces fitted snug in his ear, advanced, wireless, connected to his smartphone and ready to go. He could hear Hayato-kun and Yuuki-chan cheering from the left. Yozora resisted the urge to look. He wouldn't break focus now. _**Track 29**_ pervaded every part of his consciousness and subconscious. Awake and asleep. Dream and reality. He'd been listening to it all day and all night. He had let the music possess his body and move through him as he practiced and practiced his dish the day before.

He flexed his right hand. All good.

He dropped his knife case onto the kitchen bench. He flicked the latch and lifted out his chef's knife with nimble fingers. As always he balanced the handle on the back of his fingers before flipping it and catching the walnut handle again with ease. He raised it to his face and tested its deadly sharpness by lightly scraping the calloused padding of his thumb against the blade. He performed this ritual without fail for every battle.

" _The match's theme is…"._

Yozora tapped his wireless earpieces one more time, getting ready to switch it to 'noise-cancelling'.

" _ **Rice!**_ _Begin cooking!"._

 _Click._

Silence fell and Yozora felt the low vibrations of the gong pass through his body like a ghost. He counted his heartbeat before tapping _play_ on his smartphone. There. The shimmering of strings instantly transported him to a different world. He wasn't in _Tootsuki_ anymore. Instead, he was in a place with _real_ class and elegance surrounded by sumptuous carpets and fabrics, ostentatiously detailed pillars painted in brilliant white. Rich and opulent. Most importantly, _tasteful._ The piece-de-resistance was the magnificent ballroom in the centre of his palace. There were no doors or walls to contain the ballroom, only arches. It allowed the scented air of fresh-flowers to flow through, to perfume and charm every crevice. His ballroom had architecture like no other in his music-engraved visage, and there was more to it. He just… needed to peel back the layers curtains for his audience.

 _ **Track 29.**_

An example of a _Viennese Waltz._

'… _Come. I want to hear your story again'._

It was in _a hundred and eighteen beats._ Slower than the usual _moderato_ and more than the _seventy beats,_ but that was fine. The recipe he had _composed_ was based on precision and exact measurements. This _Viennese Waltz,_ was in a level of its own, standing above all the other waltzes he'd played or listened to in his life. It was far more complex and multi-layered than one could give credit for. Thus his dish was going to reflect its underrated complexity.

' _First, the_ _ **beetroot ripple ice-cream'.**_

It was a fine and delicate task as his hands whipped through his utensils and ingredients from heating the milk to whisk-blitzing the eggs and sugar until it was light and creamy. The smooth, elegant and graceful melody guided him across the marble hall. Light and tempered hands whisked his mixture into the milk unfailingly in time and until he held it at the right temperature for exactly ten minutes before sliding it off the stove and into the already-prepared ice-water bath to cool it completely. He didn't even look. Yozora reached and scooped up the sour-cream, horseradish, gin, lemon juice and salt without breaking _tempo_ and stirred them firmly together until it melded completely. When he first tested out these flavour combinations, he was blown away by the harmony and contrast of flavours all the way from the pungent horseradish, the dry gin and the tart lemon juice dancing with the sweet, creamy and rich ice-cream for his dish. It was truly the embodiment of this unique _Viennese Waltz._ Yozora flipped his grip on the whisk and executed a gentler _slur_ for the one-two-three beat off of the _two chords per bar_ as he gave his mixture a final few whips with his strong wrist twisting around just perfectly. Then Yozora added his mixture into the cooled, ice-cream base, taking care not to spill. He quickly wrapped it in cling film and slid it into the fridge until the next few loops arrive.

' _Now the soubise'._

Yozora believed his **onion** _ **soubise**_ was going to be unlike anything the judges would expect, he could feel it in his bones. He spooned his pale butter into the saucepan over medium heat and added his thinly sliced onions. Their quick sizzling warranted quick stirs until they softened but didn't colour. That was when Yozora finished _counting in_ and poured in the just prepared beetroot juice and salt, and let it boil. The sweet onion fragrance filled his lungs. It was like an alchemic transmutation when the ruby-red glow of the pigmented vegetable took over the paler hue of the onion and butter. It was just like how _**Track 29**_ beautifully transitioned from the grand orchestra to the sweet and captivating violin solo, as it crescendo into its strong melody _,_ stealing the show if only for a few bars.

' _Hmm… I reckon they could take the violin solo out for the final draft. But it does leave something special for my dish'._

In this rice-themed dish of his… _beetroot_ was the _leitmotif._

The dark haired chef flicked his kitchen knife into his right hand and embedded it into the specially carved groove for keeping the blade in his thick chopping board, a handy and wooden masterpiece courtesy of a trusted carpenter on the _NPC Network._ Next, he blitzed the mixture briefly with a handheld-blender, just enough to break up the onions and then passed the whole thing though a fine mesh sieve. It wasn't over yet, because he needed to go further. Yozora measured the exact amount of his now smooth onion mixture and poured it into the detachable jug of one of Tootsuki's newest appliance, the Thermomix. Yozora had a go on one of these bad-boys a year ago when _The Guild_ cobbled enough funds to gain entry into Japan's kitchen trade show in _Akihabara_. The memory was clear as day. It had a multitude of functions from blending, precise heating, mixing, milling, whipping, kneading, chopping, weighing and heaps more but today he was just going to heat his mixture to a hundred degrees Celsius and blitz it at medium speed. Finally, when the puree came to the right temperature, he turned it off and sprinkled in his _gellan F_ before resuming, this time at a lower speed and dialling it up again. Once that was done, the deep red viscous mix, Yozora carefully poured it over his cling-film lined tray and slid it next to the ice-cream in the mini fridge and kicked the door closed when the cymbals rang.

' _Okay, the_ _ **white wine gel'.**_

Yozora was enraptured in the sheer beauty of the composition. It exuded a heavily veiled melancholy from the perfectly composed notes of the violin solo, yet it was still enthralling and majestic, just like the ballroom he commanded in his palace. With each layer of instrument emerging, his visage peeled back the thick drapes to build his musical world. The marble floor he stood on was rippled with soft magenta hues that had never before been seen in real-life, but only his mind. The stair-rails leading down into the grandiose ballroom were ornate mahogany, carved and polished so that it shone. Ghostly, dainty feet floated down the stairs belonging to men and women with _real_ aristocracy strode. He only saw their feet as they circled around him, beginning to dance to a charming _waltz_ _ **.**_ He boiled the white wine then removed it and added both gellan F and gellan F 100. He whisked it immediately and placed it back over the stove until he boiled it again whilst still whisking. Finally with quick and careful work, he poured the mixture onto a cling-wrap lined tray and tilted it so that the gel would spread into a fine layer and set it aside to set too.

' _How much time do I have left?'._

Yozora mopped his brow with his upper arm and stared at the enormous clock hanging above the judging panel. Perfect Timing.

' _ **Acidulated butter**_ _now… then the_ _ **pickled beetroot'.**_

Yozora threw on another saucepan and proceeded to make his onion, garlic, white wine and vinegar reduction. Once it was three-quarters, he took it off the heat and whisked in the butter a little at a time until it completely emulsified. His lips quirked in his satisfaction as he observed the sheen reflect the glistening light as he poured a stream of the liquid goodness through a fine sieve. That was to be left aside too. He made quick work for his pickling. Yozora sloshed in the _chardonnay_ vinegar, caster sugar and salt into a new bowl and stirred it until it dissolved. He let the diced beetroot tumble into the liquid and burned the _'looping-number'_ into his brain to countdown twenty minutes for marination.

' _Next, the_ _ **radish carpaccio'.**_

He could do this bit with his eyes closed… but he wouldn't because that was dumb… Instead, his nimble piano-trained phalanges flicked up the knife-handle from its groove and sliced the small jewelled vegetable at top-speed, his blade was a blur and the contact between metal and wood of the chopping board was steady rapid machine-gun which he fitted within _one bar_ of the _arppegiated_ sequence _._ Shining red-rimmed discs multiplied as they stuck against the moistened blade. Sweat dripped from his brow like fat rain, but his heart still pounded deep and steady, not allowing him to break pace and rhythm as he let _**Track 29**_ swallow his chest with the heart-warming yet uplifting theme carried along by the fanciful orchestra. He delicately and swiftly sliced out a square of cling-film in a blink of an eye and slotted his kitchen knife back into its groove. He laid the plastic square onto the bench and using kitchen paper, lightly oiled the surface with grape-seed oil. Yozora plopped a round steel cookie cutter on the middle. He lifted each radish slice by his fore-finger and thumb like jeweller's tweezers and carefully arranged them together in his design. Each moon of radish overlapped each other around his steel circular cutter plonked in the middle, continuing to build a donut of radishes. He removed the cutter and threw it into the sink. Then he sliced out another sheet of cling-film, oiled it up too and placed it over the radish, the grape-seed oil sealing it all together. He transferred it into the mini-fridge with all his other elements.

' _Finally, the_ _ **risotto**_ _'._

Yozora knew he was going to get a lot of flak for this, but hey… he didn't come this far to _get this far._ The _waltz_ music itself was magic. So he would honour that. He pulled out a flat piece of _konbu_ and a packet of _katsuoboshi_ from in ingredients box _._ If it weren't for the noise-cancelling properties of his ear-phones he would be blasted with gasps and shouts of inquiry from the audience by now. He looked up and as sure as getting his arsed kicked by _Shao Kahn,_ their open and gaping mouths of each and every student confirmed his thoughts. He smirked for real. It was clear that he was making some sort of Western dish from the types of ingredients he'd been using. They thought this was another inexplicably twisted fusion dish, but no. It wasn't a fusion dish. _It would be a story._ Yozora ignored the audience once more and kept his head down and worked. He poured his prepared chicken stock into a saucepan and added the _konbu_ and _katsuoboshi_ for his new _umami_ -rich stock. He turned off the gas and left it on a different burner as he commenced the next step. He reduced the rest of his reserved beetroot juice until it reached half. He pulled out another saucepan, giving the handle a twist as it spun in his grip a few times before firmly landing the steel bottom onto the stove. He covered the bottom with oil and tossed in the _carneroli_ rice, toasting each grain up with consistent stirs until it was light brown which happened in a matter of moments.

He swirled in _Madeira_ and _vermouth_ , they released steams of satisfying bubbles as the orchestra reached the climax, cooking it all and letting it reduce too. Yozora flicked his irises to his left and was quick on his feet when he returned to the stock. He strained it until all was left was the clear and heady fragrance of the stock and _dashi._ Once the _risotto_ was reduced enough, he poured in half of the steaming, warm stock to the rice and stirred it for exactly ten minutes. He continued to add ladles of the stock, a bit at a time for every seventh bar until the rice was gorgeously tender and most of the liquid was absorbed. He scooped a lump of grains and licked it up for a taste.

' _Beautiful'._

The sentimental and romantic flair of _**Track 29**_ was like a lucid dream as Yozora glided across the stadium from one spot to another, checking all his cooking elements. His fingers ghosted over everything, touching, caressing and checking as if little details were the keys on his sleek baby-grand. Keen eyes burned the visuals to his memory as deep magenta hues of the beetroot sucked him into a long and inescapable dance of melodies. Finally, Yozora settled back to the reduced beetroot juice and added it to his _risotto._ Then, he added the acidulated butter, a healthy dose of parmesan cheese, mascarpone and the onion _soubise._ He tasted as he went, making sure to tune the harmony of flavours and keeping in mind that there were five other elements of his dish that still needed to be added to complete the composition.

' _Back to the ice-cream. Here goes nothing'._

Yozora dragged out the large kitchen canister from under the bench, and methodically slipped on the protective gloves and glasses. The fun bit. He inwardly cackled. Hell yeah!

He was going to freeze the ice-cream with liquid nitrogen.

He clasped the sides and pulled up all six latches. The seal pealed back. The thick white mist crawled and oozed out, coating the bench and floor with his groping and wispy tendrila. The stinging coolness was a welcome relief compared to the heat of the stove. Yozora placed the ice-cream based which had been resting all this time in the mini-fridge into the stand-up mixer with the paddle attachment. He dialled it to medium-low speed and started adding tablespoons at a time of the ghostly liquid nitrogen. It was impossible to see exactly what was happening as the mixer whirred away, so he relied on his touch through the gloves, for the vibrations of the bowl as the ice-cream began to form. He had to be careful about this. The last thing he wanted was the fat and protein to crystallise. Once he had enough of the liquid nitrogen, he put it away. With steady hands, he cranked down the speed and trickled in the reduced beetroot juice until he created little capillaries of thin ribbons swirling the pale creamy ice-cream.

' _It's decrescendo from here now'._

Yozora took out his tray of white wine gel and using a round cutter, he cut out discs of the gel and placed them over another fresh sheet of cling-film.

A soft vibration tickled his left ear. Oh.

' _Yeah… About the right time for the emcee to call out the last fifteen minutes'._

He didn't need to look up. He could tell by the number of loops he'd gone through already.

Yozora slid out five charcoal-black dishes and lined them out neatly. He divided the blood-red beetroot _risotto_ evenly and spooned them carefully into the centre of each dish. He hovered so closely over them, his long and stead fingers making sure that it was within just perfectly eighty millimetres in a perfect circle. Next he carefully flipped the transparent white wine gel on the cling film onto the _risotto_ and used the same shape cutter to press over it, effectively sealing it around the concave mound of risotto. Then he delicately peeled back the film, leaving the white-wine gel to encase the whole thing like a large droplet of melted ruby. Next was the radish _carpaccio_. He too, very carefully turned it upside down onto the white wine gel and peeled back the plastic. The grape-seed oil made it gleam in the light like a halo. The pads of his calloused fingers quickly caught the thin slices of radish from slipping and commanded them to stay in place like a geometric circular kaleidoscope.

Before the next step, he had to look up.

' _She's almost done too'._

He pinned Mito-san on the other side of the stadium, gauging where she was up to. She was approaching the finishing line. Her sepia-toned body was drenched in sweat which soaked into her shorts. Each bead of moisture trickled down along the dip of her ample cleavage, and riveted through the dips of her wide pelvis like naturally carved rivers. He narrowed his eyes. His _Vienesse waltz_ was reaching its conclusion, on the final loop too. The cymbals trembled together as the strings and woodwind instruments scaled higher and higher ready to disappear over the horizon, stilled only by the warm oboe to bring it home.

' _The ice-cream needs to be served immediately. Let's halve the beats'._

He grabbed a spoon and placed it near the stove. Yozora exhaled and was buried in silence again, hearing and feeling only his clambouring heart-beat which deafened his ears. Slow it down, slow it down. He wiped the sweat from his face and pressed his thumb against his earpiece and his auditory senses exploded with overwhelming vibrancy.

He abandoned his ghostly guests and pulled the drapes back from the cathedral like windows of his marble ballroom. What a beautiful sunset…

" _First to finish is Mito Ikumi! Please present your dish!"._

Yozora snapped his eyes open. He immediately spun on his heels and his eyes voraciously searched all over the expansive window of the high viewing box.

Then he felt disappointment like no other.

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* * *

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' _Hisako… hurry up and come back to me'._

Erina read the same line for the sixteenth time. She felt so alone without her aide. She yawned and dropped the document back onto the desk with the rest. She turned away and stared out into the garden. The silence of her office made her blood as cold as the autumnal air that crept through the open window. There were no whispering noises or rustling. Then hurried footsteps and the groaning of the heavy door brought her heart racing as fast as a gunshot. Her head snapped in an instant from gazing out the window with unfocused eyes to the calm smile of the seventh seater.

"My. You're still here, Nakiri-kun?".

"W-What do you want, Isshiki- _senpai_ ".

"For you".

Isshiki- _senpai_ invited himself further in and strolled up to her desk and placed down a thin folder before her. Erina glanced at the label and found they were just the signed contracts from the next round of judges for the final three rounds of the Autumn Elections. He sure didn't waste time.

"Thank you".

"You are not interested in watching the final match today?".

"Hardly", she scoffed.

But Erina internally cringe. She knew full well who was competing today and there was no way she was going to show her face! She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as Isshiki-senpai still loitered, waiting for her to elaborate her answer like a vulture. The corners of his lips were fighting a smile and his eyebrows slightly rose. Erina flushed faster and she looked away before that mischievous look of his spread. She swore, this _senpai's_ penchant for pulling people's strings was a contagion. But before Erina could strengthen her resolve to be aloof, Isshiki-senpai checked his wrist watch.

"The judging won't happen until another ten minutes so there's still time to change your mind if you want. I'm heading off now. See you later, Nakiri-kun".

"…".

As soon as her door clicked shut, her face landed in her hands and she groaned long and deep. _Stupid._ She could think of nothing else but _him_ and she hated it to her core! She hadn't been herself since yesterday. This morning she felt lost and confused, like she could barely work out how to get dressed. Then she convinced herself that she had a job to do today, something important. But it was as if her brain had been programmed overnight, overridden. It was as if all her previous convictions and self-assurances had been deleted and replaced with the image of his face…

 _Mitsunaga…_

Alice had a special radar for these things! How could it have been remotely possible to hide her sommersaulting heart, her fidgeting, and stutter! Just like that, her cousin had deduced that she… she… she…

Erina took a shaky breath in and out and fought against the squirming. The heat of her breath caught between her face and her palms only intensified the simmering in her cheeks. _Kami-sama._ She felt like such a hot and tired mess. Slowly, her hand slid from her face and her fingers drifted to her lips, tracing the dry plumpness. Gentle warmth radiated from the spot where their lips had touched and it was still spreading through the rest of her.

' _I kissed him… I still can't believe I did that'._

The slight and insignificant brushing of her lips against his had been barely there at all and yet it ignited a full-blown chemical explosion in her body and brain. The half-second was an eternity and it burned into her cortex. The action obliterated every thought. For the first time in forever, Erina's mind had locked onto the present. All her worries had evaporated like a summer shower onto a hot car and the world swirled down the drain.

His hair had been ticklish. The feel of his thin lips had been slightly dry, but warm and sent a frenzy of static between them which set her chest in flames. She swore she had felt every divot. They had been softer than she could have imagined and frozen as if she paralysed him. Their equally shaky breaths had mingled and he smelled like tangerine and grass. The contact had been so faint, they were mere whispers but it slammed her with a torrenting desire for something. The name escaped her, but she knew it was something nobody could give her but Mitsunaga Yozora.

Erina dropped her hands to her lap. She was so surprised to find her lips already parted and her thighs shaking in torturous anticipation from the memory alone.

' _What… has he done to me?'._

She was _afraid._

So very afraid of what all this confusion and aggravating emotions were leading to. She was afraid of the feeling of Mitsunaga kept stuck in her heart, making her wonder all day and night whether he thought about her as much as she did.

Erina pushed out of her seat, her body shaking and perspiring as she forced herself, tormented herself to face the reality of what was happening between her and the ex-musician gamer-chef.

"Tch. This is useless".

Erina finally abandoned her desk. She threw her shoulders and her hair back and stalked out of her office, her focus blazing. She walked over the carpet like she was wading through treacle, forcing to keep moving as she made tracks out of the Elite Ten Council offices towards the _Heaven's Moon Arena._

Despite the admission of unsuredness in Mitsunaga's confession, it hadn't been a joke as Ginsekai loudly proclaimed on the phone. There was a crystal honesty that rang in his low timbre that only hind-sight granted Erina to hear. His intonation was flat, but strong. Then the darkened and hooded cobalt eyes had locked her in a trance with such intensity as he rolled the next few words off his tongue which had made her feel vulnerable in the face of a hunter.

A two-minute warning.

He had made his intentions loud and clear… and gave her time to run and not look back.

But beyond all reason she had _let him_ advance.

It was because of those _damning_ eyes. Mitsunaga's eyes were nothing like the flat lilt of his voice. They had been relentlessly probing as if trying to convince her that he hadn't been lying and looking away had been unthinkable. He had stared at her as if she'd _done_ something to him. How could those eyes be _so expressive_ … _?_ The sapphire swirls of emotion which she didn't think he was capable of had made her stomach flutter violently. Remembering them now, she nearly lost herself. Why had he been looking her like that? What changed? It was far from the usual far-away stares in class. Instead, they held deep seated emotions and many more. She couldn't begin to comprehend. They danced like fire, licking the walls of azure glass. As disconcerting, confusing and electrifying as they all were flashing so rapidly amidst the various shades of deep oceans, one thing about those devastating eyes stood above all else.

She was convinced that the _hottest_ fires always burned _blue_.

"Ah Erina-sama! I was on my way to see you. Eizan- _senpai_ has—".

"Leave it on my desk".

Erina completely bypassed some random middle school division errand-boy as she bulldozed on.

Once she broke out of the building, she made a swift left-turn towards the huge stadium where she could already hear the cheers leaking out. Erina carried on with her mind still rattled, but with a path laid before her. No longer was it an impossible maze, this time it was different. One path began to shine as if it were made with luminescent moon itself and the other paths melted away like so much black ice.

All this back and forth between herself and Mitsunaga created this unbearable and infuriating _tension_ that brought goosebumps to her skin and sweat to her palms. Nothing in her life had provided her with such a challenge! She had every opportunity to deflect and run from Mitsunaga whenever they crossed paths but, she never took it. It was completely the opposite. She instead buffered against him or strung herself in his direction, and letting him pull her along on meaningless misdemeanours. It was one thing after the next.

Their entanglement in the bushes.

 _Aerith's Theme_ and she throttled him.

Lying to Chef Doujima to cover her.

Playing the piano for her.

Protecting her from those boys in _Seirinchou._

Holding her in his arms.

His lips taking the pills from her fingers.

Their first amiable chat during Alice's match.

His confession.

There was no way she could ignore any of that!

When he uttered those words: _'Last four seconds is yours',_ it had been like the trap sprang shut, caught between opposing needs. He had waited for her to accept or reject and placing that responsibility in her hands pulled all her heartstrings. The need to _make_ it happen and then the need to make sure it _never_ did, it had been all up to her. Erina had never felt such crushing conflict in her life. It was like her heart was seized in a suffocating grip, left hanging and her only release was to make a _right decision,_ but had no clue what that was. But Mitsunaga kept his word. He had started pulling away after the final beat and something innate within Erina wouldn't have it.

All she could think of, was ' _Don't go'._

And she closed the distance before he could get away.

Then she fled as if it was all a _mistake._

"I can do this".

She licked her lips as soon as the words left her dry lips. Erina's skin tingled all over as she gripped the stainless steel handle of the stadium double doors. Her heart beated erratically in her chest so hard that she thought it might fly out. There were not butterflies in her chest… there were lions… but it felt _good._ She finally admitted to herself what she knew all along, but was too afraid and proud to admit it…

Mitsunaga was special…

 _Very special._

Erina pushed through and stomped up the broad stares that lead up to the officials and VIP quarters. Then she stopped. No Isshiki- _senpai_ was probably up in the Elite Ten view box and she couldn't stand him. Erina turned tail and went through the contestant hallway which led to the waiting room and entrance and exit tunnel. The hallway had as much personality as the kitchen basement and it allowed her room to think some more. She passed by various event personnel scurrying here and there, but paid them no mind. She fought to keep her hands from shaking and her heart under control but her efforts were straining. Finally, Erina reached the tunnel and powered through. The darkness clawed at her but she ignored it. When she reached the mouth, the audience rang out in exuberant chatter.

' _Thank you Mito-san! Up next is Mitsunaga Yozora! Mitsunaga-san. As requested; in the event that you finished last, you get thirty seconds plating-time. Your time… starts… now!'._

Erina gritted her teeth.

It felt like she hadn't seen him in ages. She only saw the back of his raven head and a flurry of emotions lashed at her. The tell-tale of a second and unnatural whorl at the back of his head made the heat in her cheeks rise from her role in that. She looked up at the suspended flat-screen and Mitsunaga was only focused on his dish, as he should be. His quick hand flew to the side and grabbed a spoon situated near the stove. He slammed the end onto the countertop with a crisp twang and slid his hand down the handle until his grip changed. Then he _roched_ some ice-cream onto the centre of what appeared to be a radish _carpaccio_ atop of something insanely red and shiny _._ The football shaped ice-cream was rippled red too. What did he make? He kept his hand steady with practiced took out a basket of garnish from under the bench and plopped it onto the counter top. He sprinkled half a dozen little dried up seeds around and over the monochrome centrepiece. Then he nabbed a bar of Belgium chocolate. He grated it over the top like dark wood shavings of chocolatey hail and to finish it off, some micro tarragon.

Done.

Erina waited with bated breath as the gong went off. Mitsunaga stepped back and shook his hands of the crumbs and leaves from his garnish. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other with his hands shaking about as if he was a rag doll forced to dance by a child. Then like a soldier performing a perfunctory task, he collected all five of his dishes and placed them on the serving trolley, pushing it towards the judging panel. The blonde Nakiri felt a twinge of regret for not seeing him cook but shut that down hard.

At least she got to see the plating. The thirty-second plating leniency was introduced by the Elite Ten from two years ago, to even out the playing field for students who finished last, but made dishes that needed to be eaten as soon as it touched the plate. For example, the ice-cream on top of what looked like _risotto_ definitely couldn't last fifteen minutes of judging before melting into a disaster.

Erina folded her arms and tuned her ears for the judges.

"Explain your dish, Mitsunaga-san"

"It's **beetroot** _ **risotto**_ _"._

So was it a savoury and sweet dish. A delicate oozing red ripples as clear as rubies were like marble veins through the _quenelle_ of creamy ice-cream. It was perfectly rippled and Erina was impressed. It sat atop a round bed of glistening beetroot-red _risotto._ Its hue was completely saturated like a deep and glowing garnet and twinkled in the light like as _actual_ jewel. The _risotto_ sauce was impossibly bright that it couldn't be so. It also retained its shape so well and the ice-cream didn't alter its shape or drip in the slightest! Erina sifted through her extensive pantry of culinary knowledge and came to the conclusion that there must be some sort of thin film or layer that encased the _risotto_ and stopped the ice-cream from melting. Small sprigs of micro-herbs, tarragon, laid across the ice-cream and _risotto_ like a soft nest of offshoots in spring. Scattering of light brown chocolate shavings and seeds created the illusion of whimsical forest litter from the Mother Nature herself. Surrounding it were fields of charcoal black. Mitsunaga's chosen plates were black? An odd choice for his chosen colouring, but it worked to enhance the bright and deep red with its own version of heavy contrast.

" _This is a pretty dish",_ said Ouzumi-san.

" _Thank you, sir. On top, you have beetroot ice-cream with infused horse-radish, beneath is a radish carpaccio, white-wine gel and the beetroot risotto. I've garnished it with tarragon, caraway seeds, coriander seeds and chocolate"._

With a boyish grin, the elderly judge raised his brow and opened his eyes wider as he inspected the dish. The other judges nodded along, but _Ojii-sama_ remained ever stoic. All five judges lifted their spoons and cleaved the ice-cream right into the blood-red _risotto_ and delivered it to their mouths. They suddenly paused on the first chew as if their thoughts stopped entirely. In that instant, the judges' heads dipped back and gasped.

" _The ice-cream flavours are punchy, sweet and really stand out. It's so smooth but light and refreshing as well. The texture is beautiful and creamy. Your nitrogen ice-cream is rippled to perfection"._

Nitrogen? He made his ice-cream with liquid nitrogen? Erina was a bit stunned. That was Alice's territory! So where did Mitsunaga learn to do a thing like that? She wondered if he already had the skill or he learnt it in a day. If he had gone to Alice for advice, then she would've heard about it from the annoying bimbo herself. Using liquid nitrogen to make ice-cream was not only fast to make, but it was also a fast- moving trend amongst young people, and getting more popular than regular ice-cream and with good reason. Ice-cream had fat, air and ice. Using liquid nitrogen to make ice-cream produced smaller ice crystals than the regular way by freezing in the freezer. Smaller ice-crystals meant a more velvety, creamy, and smooth texture. The flavour would also elevate, given the smaller ice-crystals. Also, at liquid-nitrogen cooled temperatures, one could get an explosion of flavours as the ice-cream warms and melts in the mouth.

" _The horse-radish in the ice-cream really shines through. There is a nice balance of sweetness through the beetroot syrup that you put in"._

Mitsunaga nodded as the judges took another bite.

" _I saw you use katsuoboshi for your risotto stock and it shocked me quite a bit. It worried me in fact!"_ said the judge on the far right.

WHAT.

The rest joined in on the chuckle which somehow made her more irate. Erina pursed her lips at Mitsunaga. The Aldini brothers' ancestors must be pinching their fingers together and shaking them at the ridiculous gamer chef from their graves. Mixing stocks?! The Italian cuisine culture were fiercely famous for keeping things pure and traditional. She could tell that Mitsunaga was suppressing a smile like an idiot.

" _Unorthodox, but I'm pleased you did. It gives a pack of umami flavours and a smokey character which is elevates the dish. You concentrated on the elements that would enhance your risotto the most"._

" _Here, here. You can definitely taste the smokiness from the katsuoboshi and it definitely has a big umami brace for it."._

" _I must say, the acidulated butter added to the risotto also gives the perfect amount of acidity which is really important in a dish that is chock full of beetroot flavours. Vice-versa, the acidity is also suspended by the richness, sweetness and smokiness of the risotto so there is a very good balance of strong sensational-elements! My tastebuds are absolutely tingling!",_ belted Saotome-san

" _The beetroot risotto is so creamy and the texture has a satisfying bite to it. I really like it. But the rice is kind of different to the ones I usually eat in risotto…?",_ commented Ouzumi-san with a slight inflection at the end as he waited for Mitsunaga to fill in the blanks.

" _I didn't go for arborio rice. I've used carnerolli rice instead"._

" _Carnerolli?"._

" _It's firmer and keeps a better shape when cooking risotto. It allows for a creamier texture with less hassle"._

Ah. That's right. If the chef wasn't careful, _arborio_ rice could go from _al dante_ to gummy in a matter of seconds. _Carnerolli_ rice was known as the 'King of Rice' in Italy. This longer grain was prized for _risotto._ It had a higher starch and amylose content therefore it held onto the perfect chew even if it was stirred one too many times. Erina watched on as the judges continued to sing praises after praises for Mitsunaga's dish. Then they continued to dig in, unable to resist the delightful concoction whipped up by Mitsunaga. She wondered how he dreamed up with these ideas and flavours! Oh… Erina groaned. Of course, it could only be from one source.

' _Urgh…Video-game music…'._

" _I like this middle layer!"_ declared Saotome-san. _"Thin radishes and the delicate white-wine gel offers heat resistance! No wonder why the ice-cream didn't melt. It acts as a buffer between the warmth of the rice and cold temperature of the ice-cream. The fragrance and crisp flavours and texture adds another element to his sweet-savoury dish"._

Erina rubbed her chin. Okay… so Mitsunaga used more of his brain than she thought. It seemed video-game music didn't occupy his whole head and he actually reserved some room for technique. This was fast becoming a more complex dish and she had to admit. She wanted to know what else he did as much as she was curious to sample it for herself. Not that she'd ever ask!

" _The chocolate is a nice touch. By shaving it like this, when you take a spoonful of the risotto you get the chocolate hit first off in the upper-palate and the brain registers 'sweet'. Then all the other flavours come in, in a smooth flow. It's like the flavours dance around each other so gently and passionately. It makes me feel so serene and warm"._

" _That's right. The chunky chocolate shavings give that nice chocolatey note which works beautifully with the smooth and creaminess of the ice-cream, as well as the nutty earthiness of the risotto. I could eat this whilst enjoying the end of the day with all my loved ones and regale all the exciting tales from my younger days to my children and grandchildren~",_ sighed Oizumi-san.

The judges nodded to each other with light blushes on their sagging cheeks, and began to finish off the last morsels of their serving. Erina couldn't remember a time when she'd ever heard of what anyone thought of Mitsunaga's dish. Seeing the judges thoroughly enjoying and admiring it was beyond real. It took a second or two for the new information that came to light about his _beetroot risotto_ to sink in, even though it was right before her eyes on the television screen, larger than life.

" _Hmmm… You're the second student I've seen to wear a phone on your arm. What is the purpose of this?"._

Erina sucked in a breath.

The other judges furrowed their brows and leaned forward, also noticing the contraption. Suddenly, the camera panned to Mitsunaga's serious face. The angular tilt of the camera made him look more delicate and boyish than normal, but he held a determined and resolved expression that hammered home to Erina that he had all the conviction for his outlandish beliefs in gourmet cuisine. It took Erina's breath away. The strength and candour in his deep blue eyes as he met the judges head on made her shiver. The faceless students behind him in the stands all were twisting this way and that, as they curiously yet dubiously looked on. Whispers emerged like agitated bees, but none of that deterred Mitsunaga or made him waver.

" _This…"._ He touched his arm. _"I use… video-game music… to inspire my ideas and creations as a chef"._

" _I beg your pardon?!",_ spluttered Ouzumi-san, baffled and shocked all rolled into one.

" _The other student is my friend, Ginsekai Hayato. He does this too"._

" _So all this time…"._ The outer judge gestured to his ears.

" _Yes. I have wireless earpieces, connected to my phone with Bluetooth"._ Mitsunaga turned his head to the side and brushed his hair out of the way.

Erina didn't expect any less as all the men looked to each other with eyes like saucers, not trusting their ears. Whilst the bewilderment went on and on, _Ojii-sama_ remained impassive with his muscular arms still tucked in his sleeve, but his dish was completely finished. However, the Nakiri heiress could detect that special gleam in his wise eyes as he calmly looked upon Mitsunaga, that he knew something nobody else did… but what…?

" _Would you like to hear my recipe?"._ A soft smile fanned out from Mitsunaga's lips.

The judges faced him again, hesitant and unsure. It was clear that they did not quite understand what Mitsunaga meant. He took advantage of their hesitation and the gamer chef tapped a few things on the smart-phone screen and unstrapped it from his arm. He walked to the panel and rested it down. He motioned for one of the judges to remove his lapel-mic and placed it down next to the phone.

" _This is my dish… in the form of music"._

Two seconds later, beautiful orchestral music filled the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand when the tide came in and out. Erina gaped as the sound languidly caressed her ears, the symphony of strings stroked her skin and they bursted into goosebumps. It was a _waltz song!_ It was so majestic in its rhythm and Erina felt an undulating pulse beat through her and she realised it was the slowing down of her heart, captured by the hypnotic and smooth tones of the violins. There was something about it that felt so light and heavenly, almost lulling her to sleep. It was like liquid energy seeping right through her skin. If this song was live instead, she would just shudder.

" _Risotto is something that warms you every time you put it in your mouth",_ said Mitsunaga.

He stepped back, he pulled his own lapel mic to his mouth a little closer.

" _The idea for this dish is that it warms you and excites you… just like this song"._

The judges stared up at him in wonder. Their eyes were glued to him, open mouthed and thirsty for more ingots of enlightment.

" _Listen… this is Viennese waltz music, but at a slower tempo. It's gentle throughout, but there are skips and slurs between the notes which keep the music light while it continually lulls and winds up and down. The instrumentals are mainly string and a bit of wood-wind which harmonises and creates a unity of sounds and tones… just like my dish. If the risotto is the string-section carrying the main melody, the ice-cream is the gentle lift of the wood-wind that raises the dish to a sweeter height. It could even be reversed. You can hear the oboe playing a warmer tone in the first few bars to gradually introduce the strings. That would be the 'warm' horse-radish from the 'cool' ice-cream, giving way to the 'cool' sweetness of the 'warm' risotto. I listen to this as I create my recipe and as I cook. I let the music guide me and with it…"._

He stepped forward again.

"… _**I tell a story".**_

Erina felt shivers crawl up her arm and settle right on the top of her head.

He stopped in front of Ouzumi-san who widened his eyes in a bit of a surprise.

" _You said that this dish is something you would eat at the end of the day with your family at the end of the day. What a warm and lively family gathering you would have. Dinner with your wife, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. It is a time for exchanging stories and laughter as you reflect upon your day… and what is to come… basking in the warmth of love. That is your story and I want you to live that through my dish. I was generous with my garnish, by the way… to also add to that feeling"._

" _Heavens… you're right! The tarrogan and spice of the coriander and caraway seeds give it real warmth which mixes well with the chocolate. It lingers the whole time, subtle and supportive of all the other sensations going through my mouth! That is outstanding!"._

" _And you, sir"._

Mitsunaga took a few steps to his left and rested in front of Saotome-san. The middle-aged judge was wide-eyed and looked upon his plate as if he was seeing a completely different dish in front of him.

" _You said the flavours danced in your mouth and flowed together one after another. You said that it gave you a serene and gentle feeling too. Remember that... Remember how this dish made you feel One day, you might forget what it tasted like, but I guarantee you, you'll remember the dish for how it made you feel and tell about it to other people as part of your story. This beetroot risotto not only show-cases the actual risotto, with rice as the theme, but also the complexity of the other elements I've used. The dish also illustrates the different faces of beetroot. It's about backing up each flavour. Beetroot backing up beetroot, backing up beetroot and backing up beetroot. Just like how in an orchestra all the instruments play together and support other to create a beautiful symphony. It's a musicality that could only be produced through perfect coordination and harmony just as how each ingredient in my dish adds to another to heighten and strengthen the textures, flavours and aromatics to create… this song"._

" _Amazing! I'm not sure how to say it but… this is the first time I've been moved by food. Imagine if we never asked about your phone… We wouldn't be experiencing something transcending as this"._

Mitsunaga was so confident in his dish… intriguing. But then again… why wouldn't he be? He once played for whole audiences at such a young age, right?

" _Do you play a musical instrument, young man?"._

Erina watched as Mitsunaga slowed down and pause. A sense of dread seeped into her gut at the way the light in his eyes slightly dimmed as he took in the simple question as if he knew it was coming. How could the judges _not_ ask? This could be it. Erina watched liked a hawk, not wanting to miss anything as his face settled back down and a forlorn smile rested on his lip.

 _"I did… once"._

 _"Hmm… and what did you play?"._

 _"… The piano"._

 _"And, what happened?"._

 _"A lot of things…"._

The audience's whispers rose up again and Erina could see a thin sheen of discomfort flicker through Mitsunaga's face. Just a faint twitch of the lip and a quick blink. The judges seemed to have noticed too and they left that conversation unfinished as they rested back into their seats. Her heart fell.

Suddenly _Ojii-sama_ stood up.

His muscular upper-body stretched under the _haori_ and his thick arms pulled from their sagging sleeves. He inhaled and his expelling breath ruffled his famous moustache. _Ojii-sama's_ pale eyes were locked in on something out in the arena, distant and far-away, but strong and steadfast. His movement caused the whole arena to hush. Mitsunaga tapped his phone and the music ceased. He gave the lapel mic back to one of the judges. Erina edged closer, anticipating.

Nothing happened.

" _Art we all in agreement, gentleman?"._

The judges looked up to him and nodded.

" _Handeth me mine brush!"._

His bellow ricocheted off the walls of the stadium and the Keeper of the Calligraphy Brush rushed on stage and fell to his knees with the enormous writing implement offered to _Ojii-sama_ with is head bowed low. A ribbon of calligraphy paper rolled onto the foot of the judging panel and unfurled perfectly right at his feet. _Ojii-sama_ dipped the brush in the large dish of ink and dragged the pointed bristles across the paper, gliding the pitch-black ink across the page. Erina's breath caught in her breath.

' _The winner for this round is… MITSUNAGA YOZORA!"._

The arena exploded. Erina was in a state of confusion. Erina stared out from the mouth of the tunnel feeling numb all over. Nonplussed didn't even begin to cover it. The more she mulled over it, the more her brain became a spinning top, always finding more questions than answers. The weird part was she seemed to find herself _okay_ with that. One of the yelling voices above her in the stands confirmed that she wasn't the only one losing her feet.

" _He won? The Director stripped his haori when he was judging Mito-san, but he didn't do it for Mitsunaga!"._

" _Yeah, I know right? So how could Mitsunaga win?!"._

" _But that music though… I've never heard anything like it! Was it the music's doing?!"._

Erina rubbed her arms up and down. They were right. _Ojii-sama_ was the most truthful when judging dishes. His frankness was represented through his strip. So far, only the dishes that were worthy enough could make him tear his _haori_ from his body through sheer gravity and force of will. Mitsunaga's dish did no such thing. So was its _unworthiness_ somehow made it a winning dish? That was so paradoxical.

"Oh. I didn't expect you to be here, Nakiri-san".

The smooth lilt of _Kansai_ startled Erina. She gasped and turned around to see the tall third-year student she was only recently introduced to by Isshiki- _senpai,_ approaching her through the competitors' tunnel. It was Ishikagaku- _senpai._ More importantly, he was _Mitsunaga's senpai,_ and the founder and ex-president of _The Guild._ She had no idea what to make of him, only that he seemed to dwarf her when it was just he and her and that was more than disconcerting enough. He was nothing but a stranger to her and yet there was a brief but authoritative aura blanketing her shoulders as he stood abreast to her. His tall frame exuded pride as he watched the judges come to both Mito and Mitsunaga, congratulating them on their hard work. Ishikagaku- _senpai_ couldn't look any finer with his hand clasped behind his back. His smile was easy going as he looked upon her through the clear glass of his spectacles. His clear pale-green eyes were calm and didn't look surprised by the outcome in the slightest.

"Is it true what they're saying?", asked Erina.

His thin brows tilted up.

"I mean… they're saying that _Ojii-sama_ stripped his _haori_ for Mito Ikumi's dish". Erina nodded towards the audience.

"Yes".

"Yet, Mitsunaga won… even though _Ojii-sama_ didn't shed his _haori_ for his".

"Yes".

He didn't elaborate. Ishikikagaku- _senpai_ looked out onto the stadium at Mitsunaga who was in heavy discussion with Mito. He seemed to be thinking. His elegant pale eyes were steady and his chiselled face was aglow from the stadium lights. His lips bear the semblance of a smile now, just enough to show he was enjoying his own thoughts, whatever they might be. Erina moved closer to the shadows so that she could be out of Mitsunaga's line of sight should he turn her way and stayed quiet.

"How could that be?".

"Forgive my ignorance. But is the aim of these competitions to make your grandfather simply lose his garments? If so, that would be quite short-sighted, would it not?". Ishikagaku- _senpai_ chuckled.

The smooth velvet baritone was like ripples in pond water. The sarcasm wasn't lost to her either, and oddly it didn't sound condescending or mocking, just a gentle joke of sorts. Erina suddenly felt like a silly little girl and it annoyed her, but she didn't have the gumption reveal it to this stranger, especially one who was deeply associated with Mitsunaga. She pursed her lips and looked away. He continued before Erina could form a reply.

"I think Yozora-kun's dish has made your grandfather _shed_ something a lot more significant than clothes".

' _What?'._

Erina screwed her eyebrows tightly in her confusion. She looked closer and concentrated on _Ojii-sama._ She gasped.

' _Tears… Ojii-sama has tears in his eyes'._

Those aged eyes were oceans encased in small marbles. Erina couldn't help but feel her heart grow heavy to see her grandfather look so sad and yet… happy at the same time. How did one smile and cry at the same time? Nobody else seemed to notice, but a lone tear traced down _Ojii-sama's_ wrinkled cheeks, past a nostalgic smile before it was absorbed in his moustache. She wasn't looking at the famous Demon Food King of Japan. Instead, she was seeing an old man worn by time. It felt surreal. Erina had never seen _Ojii-sama_ like this before! Her eyes trailed down and noticed something else curious. _Ojii-sama_ fished something out of the inner folds of his _haori_. It was a small, off white and was stained brown and faded at the edges. A photograph? His lips stretched into a bigger smile that didn't quote reach his dark eyes as he gazed reverently upon the small image in his bear-like hand, as if he had forgotten he always had it on him from dawn-'til-dusk. For a few moments, Erina stared at him in wonder, almost sure that his expression mirrored sad man who'd lost something precious to him… and the small photograph was all he had left to keep the memory alive.

"It's not easy to cook a dish that touches the customer's heart", said Ishikagaku- _senpai_.

Erina stepped back.

"Yozora-kun has the gift for storytelling. As a classical pianist once, he does so with preternatural talent, trespassing on _divine_. He would leave his audience _changed_ in some way too _._ To be able to move them through telling a story with _only_ sound at his disposal is something truly special. He brings in this _power_ to food like second nature. He makes people _feel_ beyond the limitations of their sense of self, with just one bite… And Yukihira-kun is another who has that gift".

Erina felt like she was hit with something, but it didn't hurt. Both Mitsunaga and Yukihira… Her eyes glided up to Ishikagaku- _senpai_ as he just stood there, smiling at his _kouhai_ on that stage. It was his turn to be stared in awe. His voice had a slowness to it, as if he had all the time in the world to talk to her. Then the smile which teased his lips widened as if he got this reaction a lot.

"These _stories_ which Mitsunaga tells in his dishes, did they really happen, or are they just… _inspired_?".

"Every story ever told really happened. Stories are where memories go when they're forgotten", replied Ishikagaku- _senpai_.

Erina looked back and watched as _Ojii-sama_ tucked his photograph back into his _haori_ and exited the stage without a word. Would _Ojii-sama_ tell her about the _memory_ or even just the _story_ of that photograph one day?

"I look forward to the rest of the Autumn Elections. It will be very interesting to see what this generation of new chefs have to offer. As a third year student, I don't get much free time, so I must ration my own excitement and enjoy every moment. I must be off now. I've prepared some intensive lessons for Yozora-kun to learn about running an RS. The boy barely knows how to budget, _kami-sama_ help us all".

The small _'tch'_ of disapproval from Ishikagaku- _senpai_ was almost too comical, like Mitsunaga was hardly fit to run an RS, yet was still named President. Erina looked back at Mitsunaga from the shadows. Now he joined his friends on the stands, alongside his competitor, Mito. To the eyes of the school, he was upgraded to a 'diamond in the rough', not an _otaku_ gamer chef anymore. But to Erina, Mitsunaga was a diamond and the rest of the world could be as rough as they desired but it never affected him. He shone with an inner beauty that left Erina clutching her hand to her chest. He had that brilliant sparkle nothing and nobody could take away

…Not even her.

She guessed that was why she fell in love with him.

' _In… love?'._

She had no idea… she really didn't… she didn't want to think on it right now.

"Ishikagaku- _senpai?_ ".

The footsteps halted in the tunnel.

"You said that memories become stories when we forget them. _**Maybe some of them become**_ _ **songs**_ ".

She could feel it. He was smiling at her in the darkness and shuddering relief flowed through her. Something heavy lifted off her shoulders and all of a sudden all that was left was a light, fluttery feeling in her stomach and just her heart beating away. Ishikagaku- _senpai_ said nothing and his footsteps continued on. Erina felt like she had passed some sort of test, or gained some sort of approval. Again it felt strange because she'd never had to get approval for anything in her life.

' _No. What was that word Mitsunaga used… Pre-requisite?'._

Yes, that was it. Erina felt like she gained at least one _pre-requisite_ to that _locked quest._

The _quest_ to Mitsunaga Yozora.

* * *

 **Erina is beginning to finally understand! AND NOT BE A CHILD ABOUT IT! Oh my heart, she is so sweet in the manga (to some level). Underneath the** _ **Ojou-chan,**_ **she's just a regular teenage girl after all. I believe there is a certain 'growth' in a person when they fall in love. Experiencing romantic love is one of those stages in people's life that open their eyes to understand who they are, understand the world, understand emotions and understand people, as unpredictable as the nature of love is. It can be the most euphoric feeling and at the same time, if could be the most painful and nothing comes without trial. That's my belief.**

 **Meanwhile, Hayato's sense of self-love as always, put to the test... I think everybody has come across at least 1 person in their life who falls into that vicious cycle of de-valuing themselves, be it mental health related or not. Then there is that jealousy over the possibility of losing his first-ever best friend to someone else, because he loves his friend so much. I hope it comes across pretty real in this chapter.**

 **I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I agonised over writing it to how I envisioned it! Please let me know what you think and I'll see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **TripWire-dono**

 **PS: I'm going holidays to San Franscisco around Christmas Time! I'm so excited!**


	14. Dining Car

_Chapter 14 - Dining Car_

* * *

"Fuck, I'm beat… I just wanna sleep".

It wasn't too late. Yozora figured that he could just drop, duck and roll or slide onto the ground and have someone drag him to the nearest patch of grass and let him slumber until the next morning.

"No way man, you're coming with us. You _Guild members_ skipped out on our first Polar Star Prelim after-party so you _have_ to come to this one", cheered Daigo-san.

"Oh that's right! I heard that Isshiki- _senpai_ was only wearing the exclusive _kuma-bear_ apron with nothing underneath the whole time!", laughed Hayato-kun.

"…Yeah". Daigo-san cringed.

The Hayato-kun's grin was radiating excitement. He shook Yozora's shoulders, causing the latter's head to roll back and forth like an under-stuffed rag-doll. But it felt good as his muscles and tendons stretched and relieved the ache that cramped all over, and soothed all the nerves and anxiety that lingered. However, it did little to dispel the weariness from him and he was still tad more alert.

All that adrenaline had come crashing down as soon as he had stepped off the arena about an hour ago. It felt just like the first day he passed the _tutorial_ to join _The Guild,_ back when he and Hayato-kun were _noobs_ and Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai_ were running the RS together. Being on that lit up stage…the excitement, the apprehension and the _hype_ had enslaved his body. The music keening in his ears had been little more than another drug added to the cocktail of brain chemicals that fuelled his creative passion in front of a live audience. He hadn't felt this thrill in a long time! It had been like a tantalising dream when he had seen the thick inkiness of the _kanji_ of his name seep into the calligraphy paper. He couldn't stop staring! Next thing he knew, Mito-san had smacked him in the back and had offered her heart-felt congratulations. He could still feel that hand print right between the shoulder-blades stinging like a bitch, but strangely enough… he was _very_ okay with that. He couldn't remember what he had said in return, only that he was still in a stupor when the judges came around the panel and joined in to congratulate both himself and Mito-san.

Yozora was on cloud nine.

"Besides, we're almost there!", cheered Yoshino-chan.

He was ripped from Hayato-kun's hold and was now was being manhandled by Yoshino-chan and Sasaki-chan by both arms down the wide dirt path that led to the Polar Star Dormitories and he didn't have the energy to care. He finally looked up and blinked away the creeping exhaustion. A spark of wonder jolted him fully awake. Woah! It was so beautiful! The Polar Star Manor greeted him warmly from up ahead. It was the perfect depiction of the students who lived inside it. It was larger than life, and glowed with bright and lively warmth from the windows as it stood out from the serene mountain back drop. Climbing green vines covered the mature stone walls like spiders' web. It was really charming. It was the ideal _tavern_. He would spend a lot of _gold_ to rest up for the night in this place. Tadokoro-san walked passed him with Mito, who were both in awkward conversation with each other. His eyes turned to both of them. Their blushing, stuttering and poorly formed sentences as they praised each other's different cooking skills made his smile wider. Tadokoro-san was overboard, whilst Mito-san floundered about, not knowing how to accept praises and giving them in return. Yes. At the end of the day… they were all friends, right?

"Welcome home everyone", declared Yukihira and he fished the dorm keys from his pocket.

Yozora stepped up onto the veranda and–

"HEY!".

"OW!".

"Why are you – KYAA!?".

Yozora's hand instantly flew to his nose to appease the stinging burn of slamming his nose behind Ibusaki-san. What the hell?! The whiplash sent his head spinning. What was the big idea?! He pulled his face away enough to rub his sore nose and looked over with a grimace. One of the large double doors was wide upon with everyone suddenly jammed at the entrance, courtesy of Yukihira blockading the door. The smoking-expert in front of Yozora grunted as he rebounded off of the back of Marui-san's head, causing a domino effect of students treading on each other's shoes and falling into each other.

"What gives, Yukihira!", yelled Daigo-kun.

Yozora pulled himself away from the pack and dragged Hayato-kun with him, who was still bemoaning about his hair being messed up. He shook himself off and patted Hayato-kun's hair, helping the hapless boy get it back into place and top the senseless complaining. His tiredness was already quickly replaced with irritation. He frowned and along with everyone else, jumped onto his toes to see over Yukihira's frame still hogging the door way looking for why the hell he stopped in his tracks.

" _Yo"._

Irk.

Sitting on the foot of the grand staircase the _last_ person Yozora wanted to see. His hulking figure casually occupied at least the first four steps on the staircase leading to the bedrooms. His muscular legs were spread out as he lounged there like he owned the whole fucking joint. Equally thick and muscular arms propped himself up from behind as leering beady eyes greeted the group mockingly. His thick lips smeared with arrogance sickened him and boiled his blood. It was the same mouth he wanted to punch in for slandering Hayato-kun! Yozora fought to keep himself in check as Yukihira finally moved further inside to let everyone into the foyer. Tension and confusion filled the air as thick as a blood feud. He felt Yoshino-chan shudder from behind, so he reached behind and grabbed her hand in the hopes to calm her down.

"Mimasaka…!", growled Ibusaki-kun.

"How'd the hell did you get into our dorm house?!", screeched Sakaki-chan.

"Duplicate key~".

The bastard threw something metal and shiny in the air and caught it swiftly, looking doubly proud at the way he made the female members of the dorm screech in horror and abject fear, and the male members gasp in disgust. Yozora narrowed his eyes and levelled him with rigid, cold, hard eyes. Stealing a dorm key and duplicating it without permission? To what lengths would this creep go to?! No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop weighing the pros and cons of the various creative means available to him for exacting his revenge for Mimasaka talking trash about Hayato-kun.

"What do you want?", asked Yukihira.

His quiet and even voice was a deathly calm as he slotted his own key into his pockets and pulled his shoulders back to lean nonchalantly on one foot. The red-headed boy who joked and mucked around often, the one who was everyone's friend, demonstrated a hardness that was so out of character to his usually upbeat personality but at the same time so fitting for the stand-out chef who was like the _paladin_ to the Polar Star Dorm. It was like the merriment evaporated from his eyes and Yozora knew that Yukihira was _also_ aware about the despicable nature of this pathetic excuse of a chef.

"I came with some news", said Mimasaka casually.

The behemoth heaved himself from the stairs with an animalistic yawn, and so he towered over the lot of them. His eyes raked over them like hot coals. Yozora swallowed his ire. The staircase's incline gave Mimasaka that metaphorical height advantage to their power-imbalance which he did not like one bit. Those damned dark eyes were unnaturally observant, penetrating even. It was if he was picking each and every single secret out of them like a scientist cutting into a human test subject for his diabolical research and the unfortunate human was aware of every single slice of the scalpel. When he licked his lips like a depraved creep, it caused shudders to cascade through all the girls as they huddled together and hissed at him. The implications of Mimasaka's actions weren't lost to the boys, at all. Yozora stepped forward and pressed Yoshino-chan back and Hayato-kun maneuvered himself to the side, closer to Mito-san. The slight brush against his chef's uniform sleeve made him realise that Yukihira had shifted himself closer so that he too, stood in front of the girls. The gamer-chef resisted sneering at the bastard. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Spit it out", said Yukihira.

"The news' not for you, it's for _him"._

Mimasaka's gargantuan arms could almost rival Tsurugi- _senpai's_. Yozora's eyes sharpened as he watched him lift it and then extend a thick finger that pointed directly at his chest, like a sniper's laser designator. Yozora's back burst into prickles. What? Him? Why the hell for? He could feel all eyes on him now. Small noises croaked from Hayato-kun's mouth as he floundered over his words in his confusion. Yozora balled his fingers into his palms. What was he up to now… Words could not describe the animosity he had for his guy.

"You pick on Mitsunaga, you pick on us too" started Daigo-kun. "You heard Yukihira! Tell us or get the hell out, you—!".

"Wait".

Yozora stepped forward again and swung his arm out and sliced it through the air, effectively cutting off Daigo-san's order. Polar Star were stunned into silence as they could do little but watch Yozora as he stepped forward and closer to Mimasaka, his feet almost reaching the steps of the velvet covered staircase. Why appear here in front of Polar Star Dorm, and not wait for a later time at the clubroom? Surely, he could see that Yozora was knackered. But there was something about him that put Yozora even more on edge… as if he carried more than just _news_ … and he'd be damned if he didn't handle this with deliberate care.

"For me as _me,_ or for me as _The Guild Master"._

"Keh… _The Guild Master_ of course".

Ah. So that's how it was. Clever. It was the only way to get him to be diplomatic. _The Guild Master_ represented every member of _The_ _Guild_ and when someone requested an audience, be it a stranger looking for real help or a cynic out to mock them, it was _never_ turned down and _The Guild Master_ was _always_ courteous. Those were the rules set in place. Mimasaka's smile broadened as his trap set. A wicked satisfaction passed through his malicious eyes that peeled at Yozora's nerves.

"Hey, Yukihira-kun. Would you mind if we borrowed your room? He and I are going to have a private talk".

Aside from blatant gasps, a few tense seconds passed. He kept his frosty gaze locked on the oaf who crossed his impressive arms together and cocked his head to the side. Yozora knew he had to get out of everyone's way before he erupted in his angry state. He could barely hold it in as he was, now that he was in _Guild Master mode._ Normally, this feeling would pass, but right now he had enough of Mimasaka popping out of nowhere for no good reason, talking shit about his important people. He wouldn't allow the darkness he felt to swallow him whole, even for a little while. Not in front of his new comrades. He wanted to settle this once and for all.

' _And definitely out of Hayato-kun's view'._

An uneasy sigh left Yukihira's lips, his irritation and annoyance definitely tugging his patience too as he pulled out his hand and rubbed his red tresses. Then he waved his other hand at Yozora and Mimasaka in eager dismissal.

"Sure. My room is 303. Go head on up. I'll make you guys some tea".

"WHY?! Kick the jerk out!", screamed Yoshino-chan.

The rest of Polar Star bursted into a cacophony of objections and angry pleading to force Yukihira and Yozora to overturn their decisions, but the maverick chef just picked at his ears as if their yelling and threats to tell on their Dorm Mother didn't mean a thing to him.

"Eh… Mimasaka's here on _Guild_ business, so it's got nothing to do with us. Besides, it's my room and I say it's fine".

Yozora turned around and offered Hayato-kun his most comforting smile. His best friend was stone-faced and clearly _unhappy._ That didn't seem to assuage his displeasure that much, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances without getting him worked up again. Finally, Hayato-kun nodded stiffly and conceded, and he followed Yukihira's example by looking nonchalant at the whole affair. Guilt slowly trickled down his back. Yozora kind of felt bad for using the safety of their dorm like this, but it had to be done. The quicker he finished this, the better. Suddenly a strong, weighty hand patted his shoulder twice. His keen eyes traced up along the appendage to find they belonged to Yukihira's. He looked up and was met with a pair of deep aureates that sparkled knowingly with re-assurance as if to say _'I got your back'_ before walking past him and up the stairs, leading the pair onto the first floor.

"Aren't you going with him, Ginsekai-kun?". Yozora could hear Ibusaki-kun ask down below.

"Nah… he asked for _The Guild Master._ So I'm not needed right now".

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* * *

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' _Huh… he actually sat in seiza'._

Yozora eyed Mimasaka up and down dubiously. For some reason he thought the huge guy would sit cross-legged. Yozora himself was cross legged, as customary for Japanese boys. They faced each other, sitting on _zabutons_ at the _chabudai_ which was situated at the centre of the spacious bedroom. Yukihira went all out and pulled the dusty floor cushions from the linen closet in the hallway just to make this more business-like for them, unsure of how the set-up usually was, Yozora supposed. Or maybe Yukihira was warming up to the whole shin-dig, who knew. He really didn't have to go that far… Now that he had the opportunity to look, Yozora saw Yukihira's room was sparse. He couldn't tell if that was because the guy was a minimalist and wanted to keep only the practical stuff for school and cooking, or it was because he didn't actually own a lot of things. Either way, it was tidy enough which said a great deal about the strange, unorthodox chef already. The huge and ripped figure which Mimasaka was sporting looked hardly delicate and he was amazed that such a clumsy and bulky figure was capable of folding his legs beneath him with all those thigh muscles bulging out. He was also amazed that he could hold his posture straight, again, with all those muscles lining his back like boulders weighing him down.

"You guys want dinner? I've got some left over beef-stew I can heat up".

"Sure".

"Why not".

Yozora focused on Yukihira puttering around, organising his plates and cutlery over at the kitchenette in the far end of the dorm-room. It didn't take long for the well-ventilated room to fill up with the tasty and spicy aroma of warm beef stew as Yukihira re-heated it. Yozora centred himself and went back to concentrating on glaring up a quiet storm for Mimasaka, whilst maintaining a tranquil and calm breathing that would make Father proud. From studying Kasai- _senpai_ for two years, _The Guild Master_ must show power through decorum. Finally, two steaming bowls of beef stew were placed in front of them. The hot tendrils tickled his nose and the fragrance made saliva pool into his mouth. Clever Yukihira. Food was the way to break tension and soothe the savage breast, and he could feel it kind of working already from the delicious aroma alone. Yukihira came back with a small tray of tea as well and from the scent, it was _genmaicha._

"If you guys need anything else, give me a shout".

"Will do".

"Thanks, Yukihira-kun".

The soft clicking shut of the door signalled that they were finally alone and the tension came back with full force. Yozora spooned some of the beef stew. The sauce was shiny and a vibrant magma colour. The bowl was piled with all kinds of cuts of meat. Was Yukihira experimenting again? There was chargrilled skirt steak, cow tongue, tenderloin and from the looks of it, they were all simmered to perfection. There were the standard vegetables. It looked like the plate of someone who went nuts at a _yakiniku_ restaurant. Yozora was intrigued. He'd never seen beef stew like this before… hang on a minute… was that tripe? Organs in stew… okay, he'd dig that.

Yozora took a bite at the same time as Mimasaka.

' _This…!'._

The first thing that hit his tongue was the cheek meat and it instantly fell apart on the first chew. The next things were the gummy and chewy texture of the tripe and tongue. The new and unexpected textures and flavours slammed into him full force; it was like he was on a roller-coaster, the adventure of a life-time. The charcoal grilled skirt was particularly amazing. Usually, skirt steak was served thinly sliced, but these were cut thickly, taking their juiciness to a whole new level. Not only that, Yukihira scored the meat to create grid patterns to the meats' surface, so that once it was charcoal-grilled, it gave the surprisingly springy texture which Yozora thoroughly enjoyed. It made for an excellent accent when dipped in the stew. The two students ate on in silence, transfixed by one of Yukihira's 'left over' food. At first, it looked like just a pile of random meat. Yozora finally deduced that in reality, it was a meticulously constructed thrill ride of separate yet perfectly prepared tastes. Together they formed one detailed cohesive whole.

' _Like a composition… with vibrant flavours… exciting and varied ingredients... a land of meat… fun… laughter…'._

* * *

" _Hey everyone? Let's remember today for the rest of our lives!"._

" _Yeah!"._

" _All of us… will stay in the_ _ **same orchestra together!".**_

* * *

"What? Don't like Yukihira's stew?".

Yozora's eyes snapped up to Mimasaka. His thoughts fizzled out as soon as he made eye contact with his cold and calculating gaze and held on for drawn out moments. His spoon was skimming around just the edges of his dark-coloured lips and a smirk was teasing just at the corners, as if he was savouring this delicious moment. Yozora schooled his features instantly.

"It's good. I was just… thinking about something from a long time ago".

"Hmm… must've been a bad memory from the looks of it", replied Mimasaka.

The silence was broken by the soft clinking of Mimasaka scraping his spoon for the last drips of the stew sauce before he was completely finished.

"So what did you want to tell me?". Yozora cut to the chase.

"The quarter finals brackets got set. You hear them yet?".

"I just got back from my own match. What do you think…".

"Keh… so _salty_. Here".

Mimasaka procured a folded piece of paper and slid it across the _chabudai_ surface to Yozora. He eyed it for a moment before carefully accepting it. His gaze didn't leave Mimasaka who was now sipping on his _genmaicha._ He took his time to unfold it.

* * *

 _Yukihira Souma vs Takumi Aldini = Entrée_

 _Kurokiba Ryou vs Houjou Miyako = Fried dish_

 _Hayama Akira vs Ibusaki Shun = Soup_

 _Mimasaka Subaru vs Mitsunaga Yozora = Seafood_

 _Intermission: 1 week._

* * *

Yozora stared at the paper for what felt like hours before folding it up and flipping it around between his fingers, trying to make heads or tails over it.

"Huh. You came all this way to request an audience and tell me that you're going to be my opponent?".

"That's only part of it. I have a _quest_ for you".

Yozora's eyes snapped back to him. The tension made his words fall like dirty pebbles onto the table. Yozora analysed Mimasaka's countenance, how the tightness of his jaws and shoulders were reflected with his own. His own belly became tight and his usual placid demeanour loathed coming back.

"Your _quest…_ is it… you want me to have a _shokugeki_ with you?".

"I see you already know how I do things, eh?".

"Yeah… so I suppose you want my knife as your hundredth triumph".

"Nope".

What? Yozora tilted his head to the side. Okay, this was new. He'd never heard or read about Mimasaka wanting anything apart from a chef's knife. His claim and his known behaviour was not adding up today. Not only that, nobody ever wanted to have a _shokugeki_ with any _Guild members_ as a _quest_. Yozora figured that the _reward_ system would get a bit messy. This wasn't looking good… _fishy_ actually. Although it wasn't unusual in games for a character who must first pay a price or give an item to activate a quest…

"I want to know what's in your sealed file. Along with Ginsekai's, Ishikagaku's and Yuujou's".

"No".

Yozora shut _that_ quest down hard. Mimasaka released a great belly laugh that was as devastating as an earthquake. It racked through his body causing him to convulse and his deep laughter was like a landslide thundering onto the mountain road, tearing up trees and crushing cars in its path. It was rough and raucous. Yozora narrowed his eyes at him, not finding the situation at all amusing. He fingered his ceramic teacup, his nails slightly scraping against the matte finished surface as he waited for Mimasaka to get a fucking hold of himself. It finally melted into a loud harsh cackle.

"Man, you didn't even wait to see what I'm offering as the _reward_ ".

"Don't care. Who told you about them?".

"I have my ways. But very protective, aren't we? But for who's file though. Yours? _…_ Ishikagaku's? _…_ Yuujou's? or is it… _Ginsekai's?_ ".

' _Don't you dare…'._

"Heh… there's that face again. I love to see that".

Yozora felt the second last string of his patience snap. He didn't give a fuck if Mimasaka's stake or reward was a hundred times better. He was now holding onto the last thread with all he was worth. He refused to give in. Every time he opened his mouth Yozora just got angrier. He was sure his knuckles turned white from gripping Yukihira's teacup so hard. He gritted his teeth in an effort to remain silent as his expression revealed the rage he tried so hard to suppress. _Damn it._ He could see it, Mimasaka licking his lips in euphoric satisfaction as Yozora gave him what he wanted. The crack in his armour… the mental snap he'd been waiting for. That last thread was starting to fray now, but he tightened it at the last second, forcing his face to calm the fuck down.

He should've known better.

Mimasaka's moniker was to target at what made his victim mad. Find that out, and it was easy to read their personality. Hayato-kun was the perfect target for him. Everyone knew that the two of them were as thick as thieves and were as close as brothers. It was also easy to see who the protector was and who needed protecting… Going after Hayato-kun was like getting punched in the underbelly and Yozora was so itching for a fight, but something stronger stayed his testosterone-filled drive to pounce on Mimasaka's taunts. If his pride was anywhere near as big as Mimasaka thought, he would've been expelled from _Tootsuki_ from getting into a bloody fist-fight with him for insulting his precious friend, right in his face!

Mimasaka slapped his knee with a loud _thwack!_

"Man! That poor _orphan!_ Failing like a sucker when he was trying to prove himself in front of the whole school! His pride and future as a chef have to be shot!".

Mimakasa was bordering on maniacal now, but Yozora was roiling.

* * *

 _"Damn it man, I love you, but I don't want you to save me anymore. I want you to_ _stand by me_ _while I save myself"._

* * *

He fought against Hayato-kun's words trying to sneak its way through his mounting rage, but the memory proved to be cool water dousing the hot flames trying to feverishly eat him up. His mind started to revert back to its normal state of equilibrium and level-headedness. It felt like so long ago he was this clear minded and it was foreign to him. What the fuck was he doing?! He couldn't continue to let Mimasaka get to him. This was it. Could he keep his word to Hayato-kun? He brought the teacup to his lips and sipped. He'd _damn_ well try.

"Yeah… it does kind of suck. This is a really big tournament. It would've been cool if Hayato-kun won in front of everyone. But he didn't. That's just life and he knows that. Instead, he's not going to let life break him anymore. He'll get stronger. He'll get stronger in all the ways that _matter…_ Oh and one more thing".

Yozora put the cup back onto the _chabudai._ For the first time, he felt it was so right to let his own arrogant smirk spread on his face.

"I care for Hayato-kun, worry and fret over him even… but I _never_ pitied him, even for one second… But I pity you _…_ Mimasaka _"._

" _What_?".

"You think you're a _big bitch_ but instead you start up all these dumb little fights. If you weren't such a dick, then I would've thought highly of you and your talent because it's not easy to copy skills and win ninety-nine _shokugekis_ in a row. But instead, you reduce yourself to _this_ ".

Mimasaka sneered.

"It's in those _dumb fights_ that I've outclassed every single chef that came my—".

"Don't talk to me about _'outclassing'_. You've just skimmed the top layer of all their efforts".

Yozora leaned his palms back behind him on the hardwood flooring and reclined. He pushed one leg into the floor and he lifted the other so that his knee rested against Yukihira's _chabudai._ _Stuff_ decorum. He squared Mimasaka with one of his infamous glares and it was with great and pleasurable sadism that he saw the giant chef swallow thickly. He thought about all those students whose heirlooms were ripped away by Mimasaka. Then he thought about how hard they worked throughout their lives. All the trial and error, all the failed attempts… it was because a chef went through it all that their final dish shines.

' _That' why I feel bad for him'._

Yozora lifted his right hand from the floor and in front of his face and observed Mimasaka through his fingers. It was those fingers whose tips were lined with _many years_ of callous, and whose knuckles still bore the scars from being _struck_ repeatedly with a wooden ruler.

"You don't know the joy of _creating a wonderful piece_ with your own hands".

Yozora closed his eyes and imagined Mimasaka cackling and guffawing at his opponents' faces, gunning for shallow victories so that he could ground their pride into dust. He could see the devilish monster consuming all the happiness and goodness from its victim and winning with a dish that was perfect in every way, shape, form, and taste… but lacked a _story… A soul._ Therefore, the pitiful demon was a slave to its addiction to swallow the souls of others to fill the eternal void created by itself. No true _artist_ would stand for it, certainly not Mitsunaga Yozora, the _Guild Master._ Mimasaka always got what he wanted, didn't he… well, not anymore. The ex-musician dropped his hand onto the _chabudai_ and rapped his fingers against the surface, playing the C-major scale up and down, up and down. A thin smirk ghosted over his lips.

"As much as I would love to have a _tete-a-tete_ with you, I have my own people to protect at all cost so I'm not risking anything, and the _Guild Master_ is always the _bigger bitch_. So your _quest_ is denied. You're not getting your _shokugeki_ so you can forget about our sealed files. Huh. Asking for them, straight up… you have some nerve".

"Keh… then you're nothing more than a coward. Running away from everything. But that's what you've _always_ done, haven't you. You preach about your cooking _'telling stories'_ and some psychological shit, but you can't swallow your own cooking philosophy, not when you're always running away _ **from your own**_ _**story**_ ".

Mimasaka's face transformed into a serpent. Yozora even didn't blink.

"Call me what you want. It doesn't change the fact that you're not getting your hands on our sealed files. Don't forget to return the duplicate key on your way out, you _click-bait_ ".

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* * *

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' _I think I've bitten off more than I can chew'._

Souma stayed close to the 'speaking tube' that was installed in Fumio-san's office. This one had his room-number labelled on it. 303. There were others too that lined the walls with other room numbers on it. Right now, they had caps fitted over them because they were all two-way and not in use. After playing host for Mitsunaga, Souma had led the charge into Fumio-san's office and lifted the lid off if his designated speaking-tube so that all sounds from his bedroom could flow down for everyone to hear. All ears were keenly peeled out to eavesdrop on the conversation between Mimasaka and Mitsunaga.

' _Wow… I didn't know Mitsunaga could talk like that'._

Ten heads crowded around to listen to the echoing voices of as it travelled through the open funnel from his bedroom, down the pipes, and into their Dorm mother's office. The words were a bit choppy; otherwise they could hear it fine as long as everyone was super-quiet. Fumio-san was out today and wouldn't be back until the evening, which was good, they wouldn't be interrupted. When he first saw those weird brass cones at the foot of his bed, Sakaki-chan told him that Fumio-san had originally installed the speaking tube system so that she didn't have to travel the long staircases to call for students. She was getting on up there in years, after all. So instead, she could just stay downstairs and yell at student's rowdy behaviours or to inform them that she had made something for them through the speaking tubes. Isshiki- _senpai_ on the other hand took full advantage of these contraptions because he was the senior and Yukihira guessed he was the favourite, and often used them to ask the students to come help him outside, or try out his dishes. Souma was still traumatised from the first time he heard the ghostly and disembodied voice of Isshiki- _senpai_ beckoning for him through those weird speaking tubes… like a _ghost…_ but not as traumatised as when his eccentric upperclassman crawled through the ceiling and popped open a panel above his head to repeat his message, just to get back at him for not heeding his nightmarish calls. He had thought it was that scary poltergeist from the _Ju-on_ movie.

He was sure Mitsunaga had no idea about the speaking tubes. He thought it was a stroke of genius on his part that agreeing Mitsunaga's request to use his room for Mimasaka to conduct a 'private talk' wouldn't be so private in the end.

"Eh? But Mimasaka _always_ goes for the chef's knife for _shokugeki_ stakes", whispered Sakaki-chan.

"That's _not_ the issue at hand here" replied Marui-kun "What the heck is he talking about? Sealed student files? What are sealed files _exactly_ and why would some student files need to be sealed? Secret information or something?".

"Maybe this is his new style of gathering information" murmured Ibusaki.

" _The Guild's sealed files_ are the biggest mystery here. Hey, Ginsekai-kun, what are they talk— eh? Where'd he go?", whispered Yoshino-chan.

Souma straightened his back and looked around. Hey! Ginsekai was gone! Did he turn tail as soon as the _'sealed files'_ were mentioned? That was totally shady. Souma excused himself and ducked out of the office to find Ginsekai to wring some answers about these _'sealed files'_ nonsense out of the eccentric game chef. He didn't have to look very far because the blonde-gamer chef was just in the kitchen with his smart phone pressed to his ears. His voice was nothing like he'd ever heard before. Instead of warm and bubbly as he normally was, it was cold and flat… like a _yakuza_. Souma kept out of the doorway and just stood there in the shadows watching Ginsekai's back flex as he placed his hand on his hip. Souma's ears were wide open for whatever any of these _Guild members_ had to say.

Ginsekai adjusted the phone on his ears.

"Hey, it's me… _…_ _…_ _…_ yeah, I know it's been a while… _…_ _…_ _…_ Good on you, glad to hear you're doing well… _…_ _…_ _…_ Listen, we've got a _spyware_ situation here and we need some _real-time protection_ … _…_ _…_ _…_ Hmmm… _…_ _…_ _…_ up until the end of this month… _…_ _…_ _…_ Mimasaka Subaru. He's in the same grade as Yo-kun and I… _…_ _…_ _…_ Yep, that's right, but Yo-kun is the main target… _…_ _…_ _…_ Then, what do you want in return?… _…_ _…_ _…_ That's expensive… _…_ _…_ _…_ alright, alright! You don't have to yell! _Quest confirmed_. We'll deliver it to you once we have it. Bye".

He hung up.

It was within this moment that Souma realised, he truly had no idea who _The Guild_ really were…

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

 _ **Three Days Later**_

' _I'm not going to let Alice have the satisfaction… I can manage myself fine without Hisako!'._

Erina couldn't believe the misfortune that befell her this day. She left her textbook behind in the lecture hall.

 _Again._

She stomped down the empty corridor to the lecture hall where she just had history, her hair flying wildly behind her. It had been the last subject of the day too. Right now was supposed to be 'self-study' period where students would go off on their own and do their own studying, assignments or cooking. So she was thankful nobody was here to witness her back-tracking through the academic buildings. The kitchen halls down the other end of the institute would be filled to the brim with bookings right about now. It was just early afternoon and this side of Tootsuki was quiet. Erina loved the quiet days. No talking. No ticking clocks. No phone ringing. She welcomed the random sounds that sailed on the breeze through the open windows like bird-song and rustling leaves. They were just simple noises that didn't mean anything. On those quiet days, when all students left soon after their final subject, it was a chance to enjoy pottering around in her quiet kitchens, preferably with Hisako by her side.

' _But I'm wasting my time because of my carelessness'._

There were too many things on her mind. She was bound to forget her textbook in the classroom at some point because of all the craziness on her schedule, but it still made a huge dent in her pride nonetheless. If she had to be the perfect heiress and represent the splendour of Nakiri Clan, the least she could do was not to forget her freaking textbook like a common student! Tomorrow, she had a meeting with the Elite Ten which she needed to prepare for, she had a bunch of taste-testing appointments after that, then she was going to have lunch with _Ojii-sama,_ and there were a few class assignments here and there, and of course there was accreditation to be done. The to-do list was endless. Such as the life of Nakiri Erina. Hisako was a god-send when it came to organising her weekly agendas. Erina was always so busy and her vision was often so tunnelled into completing the things on her schedule, that she couldn't really pace herself out and would end up working herself into an irate frenzy. Hisako was good at prioritising, diplomatically saying 'no' to trivial or time-wasting requests and saying 'yes' to agendas that actually mattered. This left Erina with breathing room to just… manage her own mind and do her duties with less stress, she supposed. Hisako always knew what needed to be done and what would benefit 'Nakiri Erina' the most. Erina wasn't. She never _really_ had control over the things she had to do, to begin with.

Erina slid open the door and stepped into the empty lecture hall.

One glance up in the direction of the seat she was sitting in only about an hour ago signalled that she lecture was indeed _not_ empty.

' _What is HE still doing here?'._

Erina sucked in her breath and tensed up immediately. Mitsunaga Yozora was slumped over the writing bench. Dead to the world. His face was smothered in his arms as they rested lop-sided against the edge. Erina tsked. She quietly climbed the stairs to the bench where she had left her textbook and carefully reached over and grabbed it. She always sat in the middle left-hand side and Mitsunanga… always sat a few benches behind her. She had always felt him looking at her in class, the spine-tingly hyper-awareness came and went and always caused warm flushes upon her person whenever she surreptitiously turned back to catch him in the act. When their eyes connected, he was never shy about it and it made her even more irritated, but powerless in her speech, so all she could do was glare back and turn around and do her best to ignore him. He would keep up his watchful gaze behind hooded eyes and thick inky lashes.

Despite that, Erina never switched seats.

What was the point when those blue eyes could locate her in any direction?

Now those eyes were closed and that mind was off in dream-land. He probably dreamt within a video-game type world too. Mitsunaga had a penchant for sleeping in class, but Erina was concerned that his friend, Ginsekai who was always attached to him at the hip, would just leave him there without waking up.

' _Wait a minute… what's that sticking to his hair?'._

Erina squinted her violet eyes and cocked her head to the side. She took a few more steps up and finally noticed three post-it notes clinging to the strands of Mitsunaga's dark hair. What on Earth? Curiosity won her over and she made the journey up to his sleeping form, being mindful of the way her school shoes made contact with the wooden floorboards. When she made it, anxiety inhibited her actions and she slowed her down. She watched carefully for any sudden movements from the slumbering gamer-chef. Soft music was leaking out of his headphones, but it wasn't fitted over his ears. It was jazz music, slow and mellow. Perhaps they slipped off his head somehow. His smartphone was right by his folded arms. She tapped the screen and an image of just musical note as the album cover popped up. All it said was **_Track 76._**

She want back to those odd post-it notes decorating his head. She reached her hand over and once she realised what she was doing, stopped immediately. Her breath caught in her throat. Just then, the gamer chef twisted his face around to breathe better. He released a long exhale that came out as a warm huff. Her heart started to thrum. She noticed his lips instantly. They were slightly parted, a bit red and puckered from pressing them against his arm. They looked so inviting…

She flushed _hard._

Her mind screamed at her to pull back, but her heart kept her fingers paralysed in mid-air, just inches away from the wispy tops of his bedraggled tresses. The beating of her heart finally drowned out her 'Nakiri' conscience and she pulled away the first neon-pink post-it note.

* * *

 _Hey Yo-kun. Yukihira-kun and I will be in the clubroom  
going through some old recipe books to help him  
brainstorm ideas for his upcoming match with Takumi-kun_

 _\- Hayato_

* * *

 _Hey man, I tried to wake you up but damn, you are one  
heavy sleeper! :D Sorry we eavesdropped on your  
conversation with Mimasaka. I understand that there  
are things you gotta keep to yourself. I told the rest of  
my dorm to keep quiet about what we heard and they're  
cool with it. Also we won't push you or Ginsekai for answers.  
But we're here for you, if you wanna to talk things out._

 _\- Souma_

* * *

 _Dear Mitsunaga-kun,_

 _Ginsekai-kun and Yukihira made me write on this  
post-it note for you… I don't know what for… So  
I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience.  
Kind regards,_

 _-Takumi Aldini._

* * *

Erina sighed quietly. What meeting with Mimasaka? What answers? These boys were so—

"KYAA!".

Her wrist spasmed and she instantly dropped the sticky square note. Her wrist was manacled by a set of bony fingers, holding tight and fast. Erina tried to yank her hand back but a grunt and firm tug pulled her forward instead. She braced her other hand on the writing bench and she almost face planted into Mitsunaga's! His eyes were still closed but the ragged exhale from his flaring nostrils and the knitting of his fine brows was the tell-tale sign of his brain waking up from his deep nap, the vestiges of a dream grasping to remain as he shifted his whole body and the tight grip around her wrist loosened, but not fully.

" _The fuck…?"._

Erina gulped at his raspy voice. Her heart was racing! She'd been caught! She was careless once again! But there was no warning at all, it was like his hand just thrusted like a viper striking out at a mouse. He had snagged her wrist with abnormal precision, as if he had done this many times. Finally his eyes lazily rolled open, glazed over with a dreamy-blue which slowly transformed to glittering sapphire. The dazed expression on his face remained as sleep slipped its grasp from Mitsunaga's mind.

"L-Let go". Erina stuttered, holding it all together as much as possible.

Damn it! Her voice didn't come out right. She sounded meek right off the bat when she aimed to sound demanding. He didn't seem to hear her right away and slowly turned to look at her as if he was staring at a confounding piece of post-modern artwork. Then he looked at his hand, taking forever to register what was going on. Her face felt so hot, but not as hot as her wrist! Her blood raced up and down her veins making her turn all shades of red at this awkward and embarrassing predicament she, yet again, had landed herself in. When would this ever stop?!

His hand dropped.

"Ah. Sorry… I thought you were Hayato-kun".

Erina pulled her wrist back and shoved them behind her back.

"Clearly, I'm not". She grounded out.

"Where's everyone?", he asked.

Mitsunaga stretched up and rubbed his tired eyes with the insides of his palm. He released a beastly yawn with his mouth wide open and teeth showing, which disgusted Erina. In front of a lady?! No manners whatsoever! He finally slumped back in his seat and blinked several times until he looked like he belonged in the land of the awake and living at least.

"Class ended over an hour ago", chastised Erina.

She shuffled her book-bag and made sure her forgotten textbook wasn't forgotten anymore and was safely tucked inside, along with the rest of her school utensils. Mitsunaga's eyes widened as if someone told him he won the lottery. Shocked but _very_ pleased. He then took notice of the three neon-coloured post-it notes Erina had dropped onto the table. He read them and just snorted. Then he looked up at her.

Erina held her breath.

"Oh. Then what are you still doing here?". He cocked his head at her.

"I-I'm… I uh… Just left my t-textbook behind! I c-came to get it".

Erina backed away and turned her head. There she said it! Now he'll know how forgetful she was! Leaving things behind in her wake like a ditzy student! The anger and shame bit into her sides and she felt her pride crumble further. She refused to look at him, knowing that her face was redder than before and she couldn't bear to see his reaction to her. She gripped her book-bag closer to her body, waiting for the moment he'd turn the tables on her and ask again, why she was pulling post-it notes out of his hair! To her relief, Mitsunaga didn't say anything and from the corner of her eyes, she could see that he faced the window instead. A long paus passed and nobody said a word. Her heart-beat continued to enslave her, dancing a rough dance that left her feeling still squeamish in Mitsunaga's presence. Erina was about to turn on her heels, and just leave him and write this encounter off as a one-time, never to be mentioned thing again.

"Wait".

She stopped halfway down the step.

"You've… been avoiding me the past few days".

Erina spun around levelled him with her own brand of shock. What was he talking about? Avoiding? As far as she was concerned, their lack of interactions in class was still the same as ever. Erina furrowed her brows at the slightly pouting face he was sporting for the view outside. She was always busy, so technically she avoided or ignored _everybody._

"H-How so?".

"Not looking at me when I'm trying to get your attention".

"What?".

Erina was genuinely befuddled. She was so confused that she literally _stopped_ being embarrassed and irritated. The muscles around her eyes relaxed as her frown melted and the tension in her body ebbed away. She released her death-grip on her book bag and her arms fell to her side. The only thing on her mind was the fact that he was trying to get her attention, and not looking at him? Why would she want to look at him whenever he was being all creepy in class and—

Oh.

Those stares.

He was trying to get her attention by staring at her in class.

Erina could just slap her hand over her face. He was impossible. An unfamiliar sensation started wracking her body. She quickly had to cover her mouth with her fist and coughed into it several times to hide the unlady-like scoff that was working its way through her nose. Her face went up a few degrees again and she just shook her head at him. The insanity of it all left her at a loss for words until she could find them again.

"I-It's rude to stare at ladies. No girl would want to come close to a guy who would openly do that sort of thing. It's very uncomfortable and invasive. Don't you know that?".

"I do now", he chuckled.

Erina finally started to feel herself calm down, now that she he was talking to her and not just boring holes in the back of her head with those sharp blue eyes.

"So why are trying so hard to get my attention anyway? If you wanted something, you could've just asked or talked like a _normal_ person"

"I… I thought… I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me for a while… after we… umm you know…".

It was Mitsunaga's turn to blush and it was Erina's turn to openly stare. She couldn't for the life of her remember a time when such a colour tinted his pale face. The redness bloomed across his skin, and up to his ears. She was transfixed. His eyes shifted left and right, up and down entirely _avoiding_ her face and his brows were knitted together in a clear sign of awkwardness and embarrassment too. This was amazing in a stupid way! His lips folded into a tight grimace as both his hands crepted up to stroke his silver black headphones that adorned his neck. His shoulder started to jut forward and his neck sank down. He looked like a turtle that was about to pull its head back into its shell.

Refusing to use words, Mitsunaga simply tapped his lips.

"EH?!".

Erina flew back a few steps planted her feet into the floor. Her body went back to being a coiled spring and she stood there petrified. Her face could melt right off now and the most absurd thing was that she was still entertaining this mortifying turn of conversation with the ridiculous gamer-chef!

' _There is no escaping it now'._

Erina put a clamp down on her over-zealous emotions. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms in front of her. She counted to ten in her head until she was sure her breathing settled and her heart wasn't trying to break out of her rib-cage again. She protracted her tongue against the roof of her mouth, preparing to say what she intended for the past few days, but never had the courage to. _Kami-sama,_ could she do this?

"I…umm—".

"Could we talk about it?".

Her jaws fell slack. He stole the words right out of her mouth! Erina's tongue died as she just looked up at him. A sense of relief washed over her, and joy that she didn't have to be the first one to broach the subject of their… impromptu… _kiss._ Just like that a great weight was unexpectedly lifted off of her shoulders. Mitsunaga got up and threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder and shuffled out from behind the writing bench. Almost like an after-thought, he snatched up the three post-it notes and crumpled them before shoving them in his trouser pockets. He started to walk down the steps towards her and Erina watched as his tall and slender form loomed over her.

He stopped and stared.

Erina started to sweat bullets.

' _Oh! He's waiting for an answer!'._

"Yes. I think w-we should". Erina cleared her throat of the croak at the end.

A soft sigh left his lips and she could see him relax. She then realised he wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the delicate circumstances between them, which made her feel a lot better.

"Let's get out of here".

The dark-haired student walked passed her and lead the way out the door. Once they were out in the corridor, Erina habitually kept a look out along the hallway in case a stray student or two was milling around for whatever reason. There was this niggling ringing at the back of her mind that still made her nervous and embarrassed to be seen in public with Mitsunaga, one of the ostracised students in her year group. It seemed that the boy-in-question's thoughts were along the same track as he too craned his neck here and there, narrowing his eyes at every corner.

"Somewhere private would be good. I don't want someone to eavesdrop. How do you feel about leaving the school grounds for a bit?"

Erina spluttered

"Leaving campus?! At this time of day?!".

"Ah… you don't have a curfew, do you?".

"No! N-No, I don't have a curfew!".

The way he looked at her as if she was a child almost sent her over the edge. Just because she was the beloved heiress of her prestigious clan, that didn't mean she had a leash around her neck! Erina was offended. She could go anywhere she pleased. Granted on some occasions, she needed to have her bodyguards at high-profile events and _Ojii-sama_ needed to know where she was going for her appointments and weekends, but otherwise she could come and go from her own home with Hisako, should she choose to. She flicked her hair over her shoulder.

Except… it wasn't Hisako who would be accompanying her. It was Mitsunaga Yozora…

… And he was a _boy_.

She could hear Alice cooing at her in the back of her mind, making juvenile taunts at her about how she couldn't handle being next to a boy. Irk.

"Why do we have to be off campus, though? We could use my Elite Ten office", she countered anyway.

"No good. The walls have ears".

What?

Mitsunaga pulled out a phone and started dialling before she could voice her opinions any further.

"Hey, it's me. How are you?… _…_ _…_ _…_ Yeah, I'm fine. Umm…could you leave the place open for me a little longer?… _…_ _…_ _…_ I've got someone coming with me… _…_ _…_ _…_ So what if it is?… _…_ _…_ _…_ Thanks, we'll be down in about thirty minutes… _…_ _…_ _…_ sure… _…_ _…_ _…_ that's good then, I don't want him to get all up in my business like last time… _…_ _…_ _…_ alright, thanks again. See you soon. Bye".

Erina chewed on the inside of her cheeks.

"Where are we going?".

"One of the safest places I know".

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

 _ **Seirinchou Shoutengai**_

"It worked, nobody recognised you!".

Erina finally ripped the headphones from her head. _Kami-sama_ she had never been so anxious in her life! Mitsunaga kept walking and pushed through the familiar green door, that had a clear _CLOSED_ sign at the front and she stomped after him. Her senses were instantly enveloped in that strong and fragrant coffee aroma.

 _Hyouheki Kissaten_

Erina growled and shoved his headphones into his chest without looking and let go once she knew Mitsunaga had gotten a secure hold on it. That was the _worst_ disguise! She hastily unknotted the sleeves of her blazer which was tied around her waist. Then she bent down to unroll her thigh-high socks from her ankles which were usually comfortably well above her knees until they fitted warm and snuggly again. Finally she released her hair from her bun and ripped Mitsunaga's school tie from her neck and threw it at him. She could not voice her utter mortification from how incensed she was, but after a few second, she managed to verbalise it _clearly._

"That's not the point! I'm never doing that again! It's _humiliating_ ".

"No it wasn't. It was _sneak one hundred_ ".

"Hmmph!".

Her Mitsunaga-saying-something-stupid senses were tingling again and Erina rounded on him and instantly, silencing him with a single murderous glare before he could open his mouth again. His jaw clamped shut as he looked stupefied standing there at the door and she was glad to see the fright and regret for his choice of words that danced in his eyes. The ringing bell at the top of the door died down, letting the soft jazz music continue doing its thing, but Erina didn't let up until she was sure that the stupid gamer-chef knew what would become of him if another _idiotic_ word left his lips.

 _'He is just so_ … _ARGHH!'._

When Mitsunaga had suggested that she needed a disguise to walk with him out in the courtyard and out of the school grounds, she thought he'd succumbed to his insanity. Years of playing video-games had finally rotted his brain and he was spouting off stupid and nonsensical things to fit in his twisted gaming world. _Disguise?!_ He had really insisted that it was the 'best for her' with no real explanation, and the _actual_ concern and honesty in his voice only made her suspicious and refuse his request even more, because how could he be _that_ serious?!

Then he somehow did this thing with his eyes that made it seem like she had personally strangled his beloved puppy.

She caved in.

He had asked her to alter or rearrange her uniform in a way that was totally _unlike_ how Nakiri Erina would normally dress. It was the most bizarre thing she had ever had to think about. Together they came up with rolling her thigh-high socks down into thick-ankle socks, taking off her blazer and wrapping it around her waist like those public-school students did, switching her school bow-tie with his neck-tie, putting her hair up in a bun and finally Mitsunaga pushed up her fringe. She had protested loudly at how dare he touched her at all, but it went ignored. With one hand he kept his palm on her head and the other, he unhooked his expensive headphones from his neck and placed them over the top of her head to keep her fringe held back. He adjusted the cushion covers over her ears and adjusted the length of the band so that it could mould to her head. When Erina had looked in the reflection of the window, she had been taken aback to see a different person.

She had looked… nothing like a _Nakiri._

To complete her disguise, he procured a gaming magazine from his bag and handed it to her to hold in front of her face to hide it. He concluded that this would be the look to deter other well-bred _Tootsuki_ students from coming close to them, like insect repellent. True to his words, the whole time when she and Mitsunaga walked through the crowded courtyard of Tootsuki, and out of the school gates, nobody looked at her with the magazine over her face and her hair re-done and school uniform changed. Erina didn't even think it was a good disguise! But to her astonishment, the students didn't recognise her at all… She tried to spin some logic into why this could be so. She guessed that since there was not a snowball's chance in hell that 'Nakiri Erina' would ever dress this way and have a video-game magazine, walking beside Mitsunaga… then there was no reason to suspect it was her or anyone of the upper-class families of _Tootsuki_ and look twice. She was just someone who had the same hair colour as 'Nakiri Erina'

As nerve-wracking at it was… It felt good to slip past students and not have them gawk and pant at her whenever she walked the school.

She was invisible.

 _It was oddly fun._

"Hello and welcome back, Mitsunaga-kun!".

" 'Sup".

Erina's back shot up as soon as she heard a female stranger's voice. She eeped and whipped around and was surprised to see an older looking but still youthful girl behind the coffee bar. She was the same height as Mitsunaga and she had the warmest and most welcoming eyes Erina had ever seen. Her dark brown hair was tired up in a ponytail and her fringe was bobby-pinned to the side. She had Eurasian features that could rival the beauty of the Aldini twins. She also had a kind and happy smile adorned her face which made Erina feel more at ease and less ridiculous. The girl wiped her hands on her work apron and waved at them to come further in. Erina looked around and noticed there weren't any coffee patrons here and then remembered the CLOSED sign at the front.

"Ah… please excuse the intrusion", murmured the Nakiri princess.

"Not at all! Any friend of Mitsunaga-kun is a friend of mine. I am the _coffee-roaster_ here but I do brew coffee after-hours too. Please make yourself comfortable. Have a seat anywhere you like". The girl gestured her hand over the expanse of the coffee shop.

In-house coffee roasting? Roasting coffee in-house was _not_ a cheap thing to do for most coffee-shops. However it was a growing trend as coffee-shops looked for ways to remain competitive in a market that was attracting a lot of new entrants. Specialty coffee-shops who could do excellent in-house roasting had the benefit of experimenting with the flavour profile of the beans and ensuring the freshest roast possible, which really appealed to coffee connoisseurs or anyone who really wanted a variety of exceptional coffee. Erina nodded in thanks with a quiet blush. Mitsunaga took the lead, ushering them to a small booth in the corner. She noticed it was the same booth they took shelter when they were being chased by undesirable ruffians.

"Where's that barista?". Erina whispered.

She couldn't be too careful. That bastard might pop up somewhere. The sinking feeling in her gut churned when she remembered that nosy barista from the last time she was here. The last thing she wanted was to run into him again. If Mitsunaga had told her they'd be coming _here_ instead of saying something cryptic, then she would definitely have put her foot down and force him to use her Elite Ten office, just because she knew that damn Barista would be somewhere around, ready to ambush her with unwanted advice if Mitsunaga turned his back. Talk about wanting privacy.

"It's his day off".

Erina finally got to relax. Good. One less drama. Mitsunaga handed back her school bow-tie. It was rumpled now but when she tied it back around her shirt-collar, it felt warm… and smelt like him. Once she was done, Erina fingered the menu that was on her side of the table and gave it a precursory glance. She wasn't going to order anything, since the coffee-shop was technically closed. She just wanted to check it out properly. She noticed that they had a wide selection of coffee ranging from gourmet to ordinary types. There was also some unusual blends she hadn't heard of before, but the description made it sound appetizing. In-house specials? It bordered on hipster, but not quite. There was also a small selection of desserts that matched with different types of coffee too. Erina wouldn't mind sampling one…

' _The coffee that The Barista brewed for me last time was really good… which one is it?'._

The clicking of heels coming closer alerted Erina that The Coffee Roaster was coming over. She flipped the menu over and looked up just in time for said employee to arrive.

"Here you go. It's on the house".

Erina quirked her brows. The Coffee Roaster slid over an aromatic cup filled with a rich, creamy brown liquid with light foam with coffee-art on top. It was delicately placed on a matching saucer. Next she gently put down a small serving of some sort of chocolate cheese-cake that was dusted with a bit of icing sugar and a honeycomb _tuille_. She served the exact same thing to Mitsunaga. This was the second time she was given something for free when she was with him!

"Are you sure? I can pay". She began.

"Do not worry about it. We never get Mitsunaga-kun or his friends to pay. I like a bit of company with good cake and coffee in the _kissaten_ when I am doing the accounts. Besides, it is not every day Mitsunaga-kun asks me to keep _Hyouheki Kissaten_ open after closing time just for a _sweet young lady_ ".

"Oi…", grumbled Mitsunaga.

The Coffee Roaster giggled good-naturedly and sauntered away leaving Erina to sit there with her hands wedged between her thighs to stop it tremouring. She didn't mean anything by that did she?! The Coffee Roaster might be as meddling as The Barista! Mitsunaga never pays them… why? Before she could ponder on that, the scent of the coffee drew her in and it was exactly the same as last time. Erina watched the Coffee Roaster walk away to the back of the coffee-bar. She took a sip of her coffee and instantly felt the magic liquid do wonders on her mind, body and soul. The rich and heady flavours were really the trick for her. This brew triggered another reason why she had taken such a liking to this blend of coffee. The skills of the Coffee Roaster, had to be exceptional as well to get that perfect level of sweet caramelisation of the beans, the lower acidity, higher body and that delicate but present roasted flavour before it was brewed.

Erina placed down her coffee. She needed to say something to break the ice.

"I… I watched the last bit of your match".

That got his attention instantly. Mitsunaga jerked his head up and pinned her with those deep blue orbs, like he didn't believe her. Erina froze up and fingered her coffee cup wishing for the heat to thaw out her rigidity. She forced her eyes down on the warped coffee-art and kept going before she could falter… or before his devastating eyes could break her.

"I think… I understand a little bit why you do the whole music and food thing… using your knowledge of music to create and shape a dish through all its visual, tactile and gustatory elements to _tell a story_ or makes the customer relive one… It… reaches the customer's heart, more than what tangible senses alone can… I thought it was…". She coughed in her fist for no particular reason. "…It really moved the judges…especially my grandfather".

Erina chanced a look up and Mitsunaga was still staring at her with no shame, his coffee and cake abandoned as if she was the only person in the world he could see. They penetrated her in ways she didn't think was possible. And didn't she tell him already that it was rude to stare at girls?! Such a moron… She decided to keep talking, but directing everything to her coffee-cup. It was just easier to channel her tumultuous thoughts that way.

"B-But i-it's not like I approve of v-video-game music or anything! In fact, I still think video-games in general are stupid and a waste of time…!". Erina blurted.

She wasn't going to let him get the wrong idea! Just because he proved himself to be an exceptional chef who could transfer his musical talents to _haute cuisine,_ that didn't mean his unorthodox and outlandish ways of cooking was good enough for her! Sure, the judges and _Ojii-sama_ were impressed and they all approved of his dish, with the result that he won, but she had yet to judge any of Mitsunaga's dishes for herself! She wasn't going to hold her breath for that moment to come either. And so what if she looked into some video game music?! It was just one or two, just so she could know what the hell was screwing with Mitsunaga's brain and find claims to refute his cooking philosophy. Maybe she enjoyed some of the music she found, but most of them were rubbish!

She could hear Mitsunaga shuffling in his seat. Suddenly, a quick whiff of lemon-scented deodorant breezed by her nostrils and she calmed herself down. He was leaning over the table now and she could feel his eyes grazing her forehead as she continued to concentrate on her coffee. Warm fingers touched hers and slowly pulled them away from the hot surface of her coffee cup to hold them lightly between his calloused fingers.

"Wow… I need you to say all that again, so I can record it".

"Wha-! Shut up!".

Erina's temper lashed wildly beneath and could barely break the surface. What the hell was Mitsunaga doing, teasing her like this?! He was asking for a kick in the shins under the table. But she was a lady, so she would never stoop to that level. She'd find other ways to get back at him. His laugh was nothing like she expected! He doubled over himself and laughed like he was heaving over a rocky ship. What a disturbing way to laugh… he just continued on and on and Erina still didn't see what was so funny. Finally he settled, but his belly was still spasming to get the rest of it out and Erina gave him her driest and most sardonic look to show her disgust and displeasure. But that smiling face afterwards which was just filled with joy and honesty… she quite liked that face. She wanted to see that type of happiness fill Mitsunaga again.

"But kidding aside. Thanks Nakiri… your words mean a lot to me".

"…".

Saying nothing was the best response she could come up with.

The comfortable silence that came after Mitsunaga's bout of strange laughing didn't last long and Erina struggled to figure out why the smile on his face melted into anxiety and apprehension to suddenly. He started picking at his dessert with his fork instead of eating it.

Oh right.

' _We didn't come here to talk about his match'._

"Was it wrong?". He asked.

"Huh?".

"Did it feel wrong… when you… _kissed…_ me".

Erina gulped and her heart sped up. Here it came, the onslaught of emotions she thought she handled. Was it though? She repeated the question in her head like a mantra. Just thinking about that kiss made her breath shallow. Her heart twisted and fluttered with ticklish nerves as she sat across from him. She remembered how electrifying that moment was and how much that simple act affected her, how it made her light-headed when she re-lived the memory over and over. She figured from that moment, the wheels were set in motion and she had begun to think about and see Mitsunaga Yozora in a different light.

But… how did _he_ feel…

She shifted to get a comfortable position but any way she sat wasn't good enough. Mitsunaga's lips were a tight line across his face and the tendons in his neck flexed as he gritted and loosened his jaw intermittently. Then he opened his mouth.

"Because it _doesn't_ to me!".

Erina jerked back. Mitsunaga's sudden and strong exclamation raised made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. His hands were fisted tightly on the table in front of him. He was frowning _really hard._ Nerves and anxiety were practically seeping through his pores, but Erina could see that under that, he was trying to keep it all together. Was he as unravelled as she was?! All this time?!

"Look… that moment, could _never_ be wrong for me. It was only in the last second, but I couldn't stop thinking about it after that. Like… the feel of your lips against mine. It was the most amazing thing. It kind of made me want to… I'm sorry to say it, but I –".

"Stop it".

Mitsunaga broke out of his panicked spiel at her command. Erina gripped the hem of her skirt tightly. He was being honest with her… _too honest._ She tried to count the times she was honest with him… she couldn't find one, so she owed him this at least.

"I shouldn't have kissed you", whispered Erina.

"…".

"But I don't regret it…".

In that instance his eyes held confusion… and then hope? Erina didn't say anything more. What could she say? What else was there to say? How could she regret the one _stupid_ and _dumbest_ and most _embarrassing_ thing she'd ever done in her life… apart from tackling him over the boardwalk… that made her _feel good?_ And for one… he didn't make fun of her for it. In his odd and alien way, left her space and room to initiate contact again. She shouldn't have kissed him because Nakiri's didn't fraternise with wild-cards like Mitsunaga, and it wasn't wrong because she couldn't imagine herself kissing anyone else but _him._ Erina gave up against the discomfort of being under his torturous gaze. She bit her lip. That seemed to catch his eye and he leaned forward again, making her focus on him rather than the traitorous feelings prodding her body.

"I like you Nakiri… I really do".

Erina looked up. His voice was so quiet.

"Will you go out with me?".

It was strange… frightening even… to hear those words leave his lips. Her cheeks, ears and neck felt unbearably hot and her hands shook, making her cup rattle her saucer, ever so lightly. Those were words were only ever heard in her mind when she silently read her _shoujou manga._ How could a person go from being a complete stranger to saying they _liked_ someone in a romantic way and then ask them out? Erina gazed back at him her eyes wide and shining with incredulity that he was confessing his feelings right at her. Nakiri's didn't get bold confessions like this… they went through a whole courting process with pre-approved partner where everyone in the family was in on it or involved one way or another. But seeing the seriousness in his powerful gaze left her with this thrill and excitement that nobody from her social background could give her. The intensity as he singled her out from every other living creature on the planet made her heart dance in her chest and made her want to chase after the feelings she'd been harbouring.

If she courted someone like Mitsunaga… how would everyone react? What would people say about her? She betted there would be plenty of reactions and words behind their backs.

If she _didn't_ court Mitsunaga… everything would go back to the way it was before… _mundane_ … _Tootsuki_ life, doing those taste-testing jobs, Elite Ten duties, studying and cooking… day in, day out.

It was funny how she never saw her prestigious life as mundane until now.

Erina cleared her throat and sipped her coffee quietly with her eyes closed. She took her time. She savoured each slow draw of the special liquid until she dragged her moist lips away from the rim with a sigh.

"We're already _out_ aren't we?".

Erina waved her hands at the coffee-shop interiors like she would to an uneducated fool who was ignorant of the finer things in life.

"Wha— huh…?".

"We're already in a coffee-shop, having cake and coffee together. I want to go to the bookshop next, and then we're going to the accessory store so I can get something for Hisako. I also want to see the displays in the shopping centre. We might as well start doing something productive … in all this … so let's make an afternoon of it, since you've dragged us all the way here. I hate wasting time".

Erina turned her nose up to the side and watched Mitsunaga's slow reaction to her response out of the corner of her eyes.

It wasn't actually slow. In a blink, the corner of his mouth twitched into his cheeks. It transformed him from a high-strung weird gaming _otaku_ , into someone that was oozing with confidence and mischief. Suddenly, playing games with a _gamer_ didn't turn out to be the best idea. His cat-like, bright sapphire eyes lit up with an eagerness that warned her to watch her step because, he could pull her into his game too. The adrenaline already rushed through her body without her realising it, and her heart pumped in anticipation. Just what was in store for her?… being with Mitsunaga Yozora of _The Guild._

"As you wish, _hime-sama_ ".

"Urgh… Don't call me that".

" _Hime-dere"_

"No!".

"You can call me _Guild Masterrrrrrr"._

" _ABSOLUTELY NOT!"._

* * *

 **Hmm…** _ **The Guild**_ **are** _ **not**_ **who people think they are…**

 **There we have it! Erina sure has a round-about way of accepting Yozora's confession. They are dating now _… just a smidge…_ Haha and it's despite how Erina never explicitly said "Yes, I'll go out with you", but Yozora picks up on Erina's meaning anyway. What does dating Mitsunaga Yozora entail and vice versa, what comes with dating Nakiri Erina? The answer is... EVERYONE IN FOOD WARS ARE GONNA BE ALL UP IN IT.**

 **I'm really nervous about what the reactions are going to be like for this chapter, but all the same, I look forward to reading about your thoughts and feelings about it!**

 **I'll be on a short hiatus now for the Christmas and New Years break! I'm going overseas to California! YAY! See you all in 2019!**

 **Signing off**

 **-TripWire-dono**

 **PS. I've put up a new poll on my profile page for The Guild. Head on over and vote for your favourite OC charcter and see who other readers voted for :)**


	15. Disquiet

**NOTE: I will be changing the summary for _The Guild_ because the dialogue in it no longer happens in the story... Just haven't figured out what to write to replace it with yet.**

* * *

 _Chapter 15 - Disquiet_

* * *

 _ **Quarter Finals - Day 1**_

"Why does Mitsunaga-kun and Ginsekai-kun look to be in a bad mood?".

Souma flicked his eyes over to the two boys slumped in their seats. Takumi Aldini leaned on the railing beside Souma and cocked his head towards them, a worried furrow digging into his brows. _The Guild_ members remained unbothered by the festive chatters and cheers of the vast audience and the pumped up Polar Star Dorm members surrounding them. Once again, their rag-tag group picked out the best seats in the house for the ultimate vantage point. Their colourful banners swished back and forth and hand-made fans swatted the air like lively birds. The level of fighting spirit in the stands were peaking today as this was the first day for the Quarter Finals of the Autumn Elections. Yet… the combined moods of Mitsunaga and Ginsekai had about as much charm as a pair of forgotten used teabags in the sink…

Mitsunaga's hands were stuffed into his pockets and he had his expensive silver headphones over his ears. Whether he was actually listening to video-game music or was just leaving them in there, Souma had no idea. His usually piercing eyes were facing in the opposite direction of Ginsekai, staring off into space in deep thought, trained on some invisible spectre. His aloofness went unnoticed by everyone except Souma's and Takumi's curiosity. It was pretty unlike Mitsunaga to be ignoring Ginsekai as those two were often chatting about music theory and food science, or playing linked games on their Nintendo DS's together every chance they got. Meanwhile the other boy had sour eyes averted to the ground and pouting, his earphones also in his ears. His silky flaxen hair flopped over the side of his head with the aid of hair-gel, like a typical teen going through a 'phase'. His knees were spread apart with one jigging up and down in a restless manner, and his arms were crossed, definitely sulking.

"Mitsunaga isn't actually in a bad mood, but Ginsekai totally is. Long story short", began Souma. "Mitsunaga and Nakiri started dating and he's being all super awkward about it. No-one is supposed to know about it yet except for Ginsekai".

Takumi blanched.

"But _you_ know!".

"Yeah, well, Ginsekai wasn't too happy about them being together and had a bit of a rant with me behind his back. Nothing major, though".

"And now you've just told _me_ " Takumi dragged his hand down his face.

"Yep! So you better keep your mouth shut too if you don't want a beat-down from Nakiri".

Souma beamed at the blonde Italian with his signature Cheshire grin who groaned in response. What's one more person? It'll be fine, Takumi wouldn't blab. Nakiri was an over-sensitive girl so he'd thought he'd do her and Mitsunaga a favour by telling a… 'carefully selected group of people'… about their new relationship beforehand, so nobody reacts like a nuclear fission in front of the pair. While the blonde Italian floundered and spluttered into his face-palm about his hate for keeping troublesome secrets, the red-head shook his head in amusement and focused back on waiting for the emcee to announce the match. The flustered Aldini needed to get used to being in dramas because this was only the first part of their school year and _plenty_ had already happened in their growing friendship circle.

He still couldn't believe that Mitsunaga managed to land the sought-after Nakiri!

The music and video-game _otaku_ and the elite and noble heiress. Damn, who knew!

Souma was tickled pink. They were polar opposites and frankly the romantic tension between them was starting to really frazzle him. Souma didn't know exactly when or how they started having a _thing_ for each other but he was glad that after months of their cringe-worthy dancing back-and-forths, they've started to accept their feelings for each other and do _something_ about it because he felt those two were always on the precipice, like a an ongoing cliff-hanger on one of Sakaki-chan's and Yoshino-chan's drama series.

They were so lucky he didn't just push their heads together and make them kiss to get it over with. Also Souma was seriously worried Mitsunaga's incessant stares would actually make the back of Nakiri's head draw blood, just like how his did when she shoved him off the boardwalk a couple of months ago.

' _No wonder why Sakaki-chan and Yoshino-chan love watching romantic dramas. This is kinda fun'._

Mitsunaga had a habit of cordoning people off from his own world and keeping lots of things to himself, and therefore was clumsy at times when social interactions started to get a bit more personal. A high-maintenance and demanding Nakiri had to be the ticket to push him out of his comfort-zone and force him to open up. He was a good-looking fellow but because of his eclectic approach to cooking and his _otaku_ interests, he had inadvertently created a very effective girl-repellent for himself against almost all the girls in _Tootsuki_. What a shame, man. Both Mitsunaga and Ginsekai deserved a fair chance for themselves because they were great guys once people looked past all the kooky stuff. Souma could testify to that.

He thought about how Mitsunaga seemed to always be carrying… _baggage_ … He could see it in his face, whenever he was listening to music on his headphones or simply napping in class. A hint of sadness and regret when the gamer-chef thought nobody was paying attention. No matter where Mitsunaga went or what he did in _Tootsuki_ with The Guild, Polar Star, The Aldinis and Nikumi, there was an ever-present imaginary thread around him that tied him down to another place or another time…

* * *

 _._

 _"Keh… then you're nothing more than a coward. Running away from everything. But that's what you've_ _always_ _done, haven't you. You preach about your cooking_ _'telling stories'_ _and some psychological shit, but you can't swallow your own cooking philosophy, not when you're always_ _ **running away**_ ** _from your own_** ** _story_** _"._

 _._

* * *

Souma sucked his teeth. What the hell was Mimakasa talking about that day? What was Mitsunaga running away from? The question didn't exactly keep him up at night or anything, but it did raise some further queries in his head.

At the moment they were friends… but not _trusted_ friends.

Souma wasn't part of _The Guild._

Whatever the coveted story was, Mitsunaga wouldn't open up to just anybody.

' _Maybe with Nakiri, he would'._

Souma didn't believe the Nakiri princess was as terrible and bitchy as the rumours went. Seeing was believing in his books. She was definitely egotistical and arrogant on the best of days, but since she had the cooking skills to back it up… then Souma wasn't going to complain about why her personality was the way it was. She was probably pampered all her life and was brought up to look down on everyone by her noble family. Then he'd figured he'd blame the parents more than her. Souma was sure she had a good heart hidden somewhere behind all that bullshit, but she was just so emotionally and socially inept or something! When she wasn't exercising her superiority over everyone, Nakiri would _try_ to be considerate of her fellow students when the opportunity arose. Unfortunately she always ended up coming across as cold, calloused and snobbish anyway. The fact that he'd seen these attempts on _multiple_ occasions meant that she was always trying. That was a good thing, right? She definitely needed somebody to gently guide her down to Earth and learn to be empathetic, and Souma couldn't think of anyone better than a guy who loves music and food, and make people feel so many emotions with just a bite of his dish.

Even both of their cooking philosophies clashed.

While Nakiri was obsessed with _haute cuisine_ , gourmet food and traditional fine-dining, Mitsunaga had his own unique and contemporary cuisine in mixing video-game music into food. While Nakiri was only interested in serving the high-class and affluent diners in the wealthy circles, Mitsunaga loved cooking for the trending and techy millenials in the pop-culture niche. While Nakiri was a stickler for rules and tradition, Mitsunaga didn't mind bending a few to make his customers happier. While _taste_ and _sensations_ were paramount to Nakiri, _emotions_ and _story_ was the most important thing for Mitsunaga.

" _Good morning students, chefs, professors and esteemed guests! Thank you for waiting"._

Souma snapped out of it and sharpened his attention. Oh damn! It was Doujima- _senpai_! It had been a while. He looked just as intimidating and bald as ever. The tall and muscular physique of the prominent manager and head-chef of _Tootsuki_ Resort and former First Seater strode onto the stage with powerful confidence. His chest and arms were magnificently well fitted into his expensive suit. His narrow and intense eyes twinkled and a light shiver ran down Souma's spine. He wondered if he'd ever get a chance to cook against Doujima- _senpai._

" _We will begin the next part of the Autumn Elections. But first, for these Quarter Final matches, we five chefs have the honour of being judges"._

Souma's curiosity piqued. The energy in the area spiked up and the audience were knocked off their feet. What? He only recognised two of the judges. Chef Inui from his first assignment in the _Rapport Training Camp_ and Chef Mizuhara from the unofficial _shokugeki_ from the same camp before Chef Chappelle busted them. Souma didn't have to ask Megumi or the rest who those other judges were as he could hear bits and pieces of information floating around him from flabbergasted mouths.

Eightieth Graduating Class, Inui Hinako. She was The Mist Empress of _washoku-ryouri,_ and was the owner and head chef of _Kirinoya_.

Seventy-ninth Graduating Class, Mizuhara Fuyumi. She specialised in Italian cuisine and was the owner and head chef of _Ristorante F._

Eighty-eighth Graduating Class, Tsunozaki Taki. She specialised in Spanish Cuisine and was the owner of _Taki Amarillo._

Eighty-ninth Graduating class, Kikuchi Sonoka. She specialised in _yoshoku-ryouri_ and was the owner and head chef of _Shunkatei._

Half of the audience continued gasping and spewing their names and accolades in reverence, while the other half were rendered catatonic from the mere sight of the esteemed alumni judges filing in. From what Souma could hear, they were all former Second Seaters with the exception of Doujima- _senpai_ who was the First Seater. They couldn't be much older than he was and they've achieved so much!

The crowd was hungry for excitement after a week-long intermission leading up to the next level of the competition. The audience jostled and cheered as the figures of Ibusaki-kun and Hayama trooped from the dark tunnels and into the stadium lights, bathing in the brightness and the scrutinising gaze of the guest judges.

" _Ladies and gentlemen, the first Quarter Final Match is Ibusaki Shun versus Hayama Akira. The theme is_ _ **soup**_ _. Contestants begin cooking!"._

The gong went off.

Even though Souma knew Ibusaki-kun would put up a good fight, he would keep his eyes trained on Hayama the whole time.

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

Shun made a break for it. The last time he cooked, he barely got a word in edgewise for his _special smoked curry._ The frustration was real because the fact that the judges could walk through his dish, stealing the explanations from his tongue meant he had been _predictable._ Damn it. He couldn't get frustrated now, otherwise mistakes would crop up and for this level, and mistakes were _not_ permitted.

Shun flipped the oven to preheat.

The dish he'd chosen to showcase would be a twist of the traditional pumpkin soup. While his cuisine was smoking, his ingredient fortes had always been cheese and jerky. No, that wouldn't do. If he stuck to his guns and 'comfort zone', how was he every going to break out of his box and run neck-'n'-neck with Yukihira? He aimed to be the best in _Tootsuki_ didn't he?

First he went to prepare his vegetable stock.

Then he brutally cleaved the pumpkin into slices. Its tough orange rind was no match for him as thick flakes of the skin peeled from the bright and orange flesh. He deseeded the autumnal vegetable and chopped it further into cubes. He spread them onto the tray and drizzled generous streams of olive oil, salt, pepper and paprika. His hands dived into the tray and massaged his fingers and palms onto each cube of pumpkin in sensuous, but strong caresses, making sure the seasoning and oil covered every surface. He slid the tray into the oven once it was hot enough. He was going to roast it until it caramelised into golden and browning dice.

Shun glanced at Hayama.

Next he grabbed a plump and heavy orange. Oranges were Ryouko-san's favourite fruits, and it was her that inspired him to include that into today's dish. He thought that the aromatic and bitter-sweet flavours of the rind would give his dish the perfect lift and cut into the richness of smoke. He grated generous amounts of the orange snow into the mixture and added some cumin for an extra kick. Finally, he halved the orange and another one and squeezed out the juice to reserve for later.

The sticky juices coated his fingers and he resisted the urge to bring it to his lips for a taste.

The Prince of Smoke quickly moved onto the next task at hand. Yoghurt, crème fraiche and sea salt all went into the mixing bowl and he stirred it carefully and swiftly until they all became one. He pulled out a large square of cling film and covered it up, except he made sure to leave a little opening on the edge. He retrieved his smoking gun from beneath the stainless steel bench.

" _Hey is that the new model of smoking gun?"._

" _Oh look, he's not using fire of hibachi grilling this time"._

" _I love the way the smoke just surrounds him so mysteriously!"._

Shun ignored the chatter that was closest to him.

He'd become well acquainted with the 'smoking gun' a few years back. At first he wasn't a big fan as it looked flimsy and he had always smoked his food the traditional method with fire and grilling. He had the luxury to do so at Polar Star, but when it came to the practicum classes, other students often got annoyed at him because his fragrant fire or grill induced smoke dominated the whole classroom and messed with the other student's sense of smell when they taste-tested their food. As a result, he'd normally bring in pre-smoked ingredients in an effort to curb their annoyance. Otherwise if he was in a creative mood, he'd just fire-smoke on the _hibachi_ grill for his food in class anyway, be damned the rest. He found that this compact tool was useful and efficient to impart smoking flavours in his food just as well without exposing himself to fire in confined places.

Shun untangled the tube and pulled out his jar of smoking chips. He carefully stuffed it into the opening at the very top, just the right amount and then lit it up with the long kitchen lighter. He waited until there was a steady stream of pure white gentle smoke from the thin nozzle. The mellow aroma of crab-apple wood permeated his side of the kitchen. Wisps of silver-grey smoke danced their way through the air as if excited to escape the gentle pull of the smoking gun nozzle. Shun put away the lighter and inserted the nozzle through the little gap of the cling film for his cream. He watched as the air above the crème fraiche and yoghurt mixture filled with smoke, until it was completely opaque and smoke escaped through any other tiny gaps. His bowl looked like a seer's crystal ball. He turned off the smoking gun and pulled out the nozzle before completely sealing the bowl.

Something flicked at his nostrils.

' _What is Hayama cooking?'._

His head turned automatically to his current contender. The second hurdle he had to leap over on his journey to be the top of _Tootsuki._ He didn't let the fact that Hayama achieved the highest score in the _Preliminaries_ and that he decimated Arato Hisako in the _Round of Sixteen_ scare him. The slicing smell of fish sauce and the potent aromatics of lemongrass forced the saliva to pool into his mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Hayama from behind his thick brown fringe. The audience around him were instantly captivated by the dark-skinned chef as he confidently stirred his pot, snagged by his spicy fragrance. If Shun concentrated his sense of smell past his smoke, he could detect the gentle sting of red-chilli peppers and fanciful limes leaves, and the subtle base notes of galangal.

' _Tom yum soup?'._

The hot and sour notes were unmistakable. But which type of _tom yum soup_ did Hayama have in mind? The smell in the arena intensified, fighting with the hazy and full-bodied perfume of smoked crab-apple that encased him like a force field, attempting to slice past and ensnare him. Of course. The central Thai soup dish could utilise a myriad of different spices and herbs depending on different family recipes and the different types. That played right into Hayama's strengths as a spice expert. Shun spotted vials and vials of different colourful powders and crushed herbs on the counter and he deduced that Hayama had been making his own unique paste for his soup. On further inspection, he noticed discarded shellfish casings on the far end of Hayama's kitchen bench.

' _No. I have to concentrate on myself. Stop looking at what others are doing'._

Shun chopped the onions, the white part of the leeks and garlic and threw them into his awaiting buttered-up frying pan. He pushed Hayama from his mind and continued working diligently, focusing tireless on all the tasks he had before him to present his winning soup dish. He stirred them swiftly and flipped them over and over in his pan until they all turned translucent, the colour of dissipating smoke.

 _Ding!_

The timer went off meaning the slow roasted pumpkins were done. Shun flicked off the stove, letting the sizzling die down. He donned the oven-mits and pulled out the roasted pumpkins. It was absolutely beautiful. The cubes have shrunk and shrivelled lightly around the edges. Its once vivid orange hues have darkened into seductive honey which glowed in the thin sheen of olive oil and speckled with pepper. The intensely sweet smell of slow caramalised pumpkin filled his nostrils with its warm and sweet-savoury fragrance. He pushed the tray to the side, and went to drain the vegetable stuck. The delightful steam licked at his bare forearms as he poured out the glistening master-stock through a sieve and into a saucepan. The humidity in his part of the arena sky-rocketed. Shun quickly added the soft pumpkin, the reserved orange zest and juice, and his stock into the frying-pan, and brought it to a boil. He gently ran his wooden spoon over the pumpkin. Their misshappened flesh spread across the expanse of the pan to further cook evenly and soak up the well-seasoned liquids. When the tell-tales bubbles gurgled to the surface, he reduced it to a simmer until he was sure all the vegetables were soft.

" _Thirty minutes to go!"._

The emcee's helpful notification jostled Shun into further action. Right on time. He looked up at the judges who were up high in their stands overlooking the whole stadium from the VIP section. Soon, they would be marching over to the judging panel to receive his dish. He knew of the judges names from previous _Tootsuki_ year-books he pored over before.

Chef Tsunozaki Taki was a relatively short woman with a small body like Yuuki-san. She was wearing a short buttoned maroon blazer with the matching skirt. She had severe and intimating dark violet eyes that analysed anything within her line of sight. Her dark blue hair was pulled into a low ponytail finished off with a white ribbon. She had grown her hair out compared to her old graduation photo in the yearbooks, but the aggressive and contemptuous expression she wore was exactly the same. From the twist on her lips, she looked like a very selective and picky person. Despite her petite and slender stature, she commanded respect from everybody around her.

On the other hand, Chef Kikuchi Sonoka was light years away from Chef Tsunozaki. She appeared so serene with her long pastel-pink flowing locks, decorated with a crushed-velvet ribbon. She donned a conservative white dress shirt and a dark-coloured vested skirt. Her demure smile reminded Shun of Megumi-san. Her hands were delicatly folded in her lap and her body language screamed extreme politeness and a very reserved personality… like Megumi-san. Was he looking at his dorm-mates future self? He ignored her large bust.

' _The other three, I already know'._

Shun took out the large blender and placed it heavily on the bench.

Then he took out the smoking gun again with a new jar of different smoking chips.

Lastly he took out his secret weapon…

… An unlabeled, clear bottle of amber liquid.

… _kabocha_ _liqueur_

' _Thank you Ryouko-san'._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

.

.

.

' _Some sort of pumpkin soup… and some sort of tom yum soup'._

Erina started to change her mind about Ibusaki Shun, even though Hayama Akira was a more promising student. Fate must be cruel to the Polar Star Dorm student for pitting him against Hayama. Both students utilised smell and aroma to capture the customers and out of the two, she believed Hayama would come out on top. Maybe… just maybe, Ibusaki Shun could stand a chance of winning from what she'd seen him use in his pumpkin soup. It was _very_ interesting. She fiddled with her phone which hung loosely between her fingers as she observed the enormous stadium television capturing Hayama and Ibusaki's cooking back and forth.

It seemed that Ibusaki had finished first as she watched him step up to the judging panel with five bowls of his own rendition of steaming pumpkin soup on his tray. Erina inspected it. It was served in bulbous wooden bowls whose rims formed slightly inwards. That would make it easier for diners to spoon soup without it dripping out the side. Even the soup spoons were wooden. The creamy soup was the lustrous colour of warm autumn. Its bright yellow-orange colour was softened just a bit with the addition of the smoked yoghurt and crème fraiche mixture dolloped on top. Small glistening droplets of grape seed oil and bits of fresh oven-baked croutons decorated the soup. Ibusaki's presentation was very rustic.

' _What was that liquid he added to his soup?'._

Erina had seen him smoke the yoghurt and crème fraiche, smoke the pumpkin soup itself using the blender and the smoking gun. Then he revealed a small bottle filled with a mysterious golden liquid. It was not too thick. She doubted that it was a type of garnishing or cooking oil, it wasn't the right colour. It was brighter. He had added a small shot-glass full of it into the blender before filling it with smoke and blending. It wasn't everyday Erina couldn't identify a particular ingredient.

The judges began to speak, but Erina tuned them out. She watched the judges inspect the soup carefully and then spooned it to their lips. She realised that it was quite liquidy, but coated the spoons well. That's right… he didn't add the customary potato or flour to thicken it and give it body. She sighed and checked her school email on her smart phone.

"Yep… yep. Alright, see you soon!".

Erina looked up at the same time Isshiki- _senpai_ came into the room. He closed the door with his foot, with a soft click. Just then the crowd bellow them erupted in gasps at something amazing Ibusaki was saying and Erina had missed it. Oh well, it wasn't the end of the world. Isshiki- _senpai_ was just on the phone and hung up as he crossed the carpet. He looked awfully pleased with himself and that raised suspicion in her. He hadn't looked up from his smartphone screen yet as he navigated his way around the room before stopping by her. Then he finally acknowledged her presence.

"Hello, Nakiri-kun. How are you?".

"I'm fine".

"Where is the match up to now?".

Her _senpai_ settled himself beside her on the plush couch. He was brimming from ear to ear with his infectious smile. Now he looked as proud as punch. He had forgone his school blazer this time and he tucked his phone into his school shirt front pocket. The small stack of manilla folders he toted under his arm was slapped onto the surface of the coffee-table before her. He crossed his legs and laced his fingers together, cupping his lifted knee as he leaned back and relaxed.

"Ibusaki-kun is presenting his dish".

"Ah yes! The _**s** **moked pumpkin and orange soup with smoked cumin yoghurt**_. It's a very special creation of his" he declared. "You've been very diligent in attending all the matches thus far".

Erina rolled her eyes. "Somebody has to. None of the other Elite Ten members are remotely interested in this year's Elections and we need at least two people to report in for the meetings. I'm just doing my part".

He hummed in approval.

"None can fault you for it. Have you read Hayama Akira's case file yet?".

"Yes, _senpai_ ".

Erina mentally reviewed what she read. He was Shiomi- _sensei's_ most prized student. It was no secret that he was brought to Japan from Bangladesh by Shiomi- _sense_ i on one of her research trips abroad many years ago. Their relationship was a strong and steadfast student-teacher one, but the rumours that circulated on the Board of Directors said that she may ask Hayama to be more than his guardian, and legally _adopt_ him instead. How quaint… the orphan child might finally gain a _mother_ … She wondered if it would change Hayama's smug smile into one of relief and enjoyment. Erina grounded her teeth. He was phenomenal for a first year student. His superior sense of smell and his mastery in aroma was advantageous for everything he cooked, especially with curry. He was just another on of those students who thought he could easily dethrone her seat. _Her!_ The insolence. His bravado and confidence wasn't annoying like Alice's and the arrogant look he casted her way from time to time was far more intimidating than any other student who tried to put up a façade for her. His mature and neutral disposition for anything that came his way was something Erina appreciated at least. _Tootsuki_ didn't need another gung-ho chef who flagrantly made offensive assembly speeches like a certain red-headed diner tramp.

…Or a confusing and bewildering wild-card ex-musician gamer chef.

"Do you have Mitsunaga-kun's Election's case file, Isshiki- _senpai_?".

"Hmmm?".

Erina wasn't going to repeat herself.

"Oh! Yes I do".

"I want it, please".

Isshiki- _senpai_ leaned forward and quietly thumbed through the cream manila files. Once he found Mitsunaga's he handed it to her without a word. Erina received it curtly and didn't bother to open it. Not yet at least. He would be competing against Mimasaka Subaru tomorrow so she needed to go through his case file carefully to see if there were any holes the 'tracing' chef could possibly exploit. She tucked it into her school book-bag and resumed her languid position. She didn't want to forget in case Isshiki- _senpai_ had to leave early.

Erina pursed her lips.

 _Kami-sama._ She was dating now.

Dating Mitsunaga Yozora.

It still wasn't sinking in. The whole concept of it was just mind boggling. Tiredness swallowed her whole from battling with the notion so she gave up and let the ship take her where it wanted for the time being. She wasn't going to lie, she was a melting pot of over-flowing emotions when it came to Mitsunaga Yozora. Being this open and emotionally vulnerable was hard enough as it was. The big hurdle now was how she was going to cope once people _knew_. What would _Ojii-sama_ think of her? What about Hisako? The Elite Ten Council? The rest of her peers? The other Guild Members even? She took a shuddering breath. There was just so much to think about and it made her stomach clench in nausea. Mitsunaga was such an impossible choice to be in a relationship with, yet here they were and Erina could already see the incalculable number of obstacles that would sure to be thrown in their path for such an outlandish match. Erina so badly wanted to be confident with him, but her old insecurities kept coming back for one last jibe. All she wanted was for people to just _know_ for courtesy's sake and then mind their own freaking business! But given the type of people she and the Nakiri family associated with… fat chance.

People will demand why.

Why did _he_ choose _her_?

Why did _she_ choose _him_?

She didn't want to deal with it once those blasted questions attacked her because she was still asking herself the same question. Would it be wrong for her say she didn't fully know? But one thing was for sure, she refused to have second thoughts. She made her decision. She wanted this. She couldn't imagine anyone else but Mitsunaga Yozora to gently spark that dormant wick in the candle of her quivering heart to the wonder of eclectic possibilities for a life outside of the confines of Nakiri. His _music_ and uncanny ability to read into people's emotions and invoke strong feelings in others with just a taste of his cooking was something that drew saliva from her and thrummed her heart. Erina had realised she wanted _more_ out of her life than to be an 'heiress'. She wanted to know more about him and when she did, maybe she'd finally discover why she had this unrelenting and compelling connection to Mitsunaga of all people. These feelings for him, she could definitely label them as 'like' and 'attraction', but could she _honestly_ call these fluttering feelings 'love' too?

' _Love…'._

* * *

' _Now… believe only in your Father… Throw away everything else'_

* * *

Erina snapped open her eyes.

How could she forget…

When she came to _him_ with a young child's open heart, he only saw a weapon and a tool to achieve his own goals, didn't he… But she saw _him_ as her only hope to fill the devastating void of not having a mother, taken by death in her child-birth. She was left with _him._ Her crying was an 'annoyance' and her sadness was 'weakness'. She tried so damn hard to make _him_ see her and be the daughter she hoped he could be proud of, but every day when _he_ looked at her with those callous and cruel eyes, it killed her a little more inside.

All she wanted was _love…_

… But all he wanted was her _God's Tongue._

… and he got _exactly_ that.

… because she _couldn't_ disappoint the only parent she had left in the world.

Only in her nightmares _his_ voice was loud and clear. It was always the same. She'd wake up in the middle of the night, drenched, cold and paralysed. It happened rarely, but that didn't make it any less horrific. Instead of the relief of it being all over from waking up, the trauma was made fresh and raw. She would feel disgusting and _guilty_ in the lonely dark of her spacious bedroom. Soon after, her skin would boil like stew. Beneath her thin, pale skin were bubbling toxins, the pains of her past leaving her skin, seeking release. People often forget dreams as soon as they woke up, but never nightmares. But unlike everyone else she knew, she would wake up and remember that her nightmare was both real _and_ worse than the fragments that were re-enacted by her dream-state brain. Every day she walked a path _he_ had set for her and she could do _nothing_ to escape.

Or could she?

' _Mitsunaga walks a different path…'._

He had reached his kind hand to her and she took it, hoping that in her darkness… he could pull her to him, away from it all, his _knowing_ eyes drowning her in blue.

' _That day when he played the piano for me… he knew I wasn't okay?'._

All he had said was that the story she had _'wasn't a happy one'_. An ambiguous comment but it spoke volumes and plucked her heart-string, almost snapping it. Erina was sure she hadn't done anything to give away even a sliver of a clue to what her inner workings and feelings were. She was sure that her guard was well and truly up so nobody could tell what was inside the citadel of her mind. She _definitely_ locked away everything about her past, so there could be none to look down or take pity on her, or make her feel _that_ way again… they could never discover her _shame,_ her _weakness._ Yet, all Mitsunaga Yozora did was look at her… _really_ looked at her… and figured it out… that… she was not right on the inside… that she'd _never been_ okay from day one. It frightened her terribly! Not even Hisako knew how truly affected she was by _that man._ She kept her night-terrors a secret. But then… she wasn't so scared anymore… not if it was Mitsunaga Yozora.

Why was Mitsunaga like that? Why could he read emotions so clearly? Was it something only musicians could do? Was it part of his 'story telling' in playing music and cooking? Was it just a separate talent he had?

Erina tilted her head.

' _No… maybe it's because… his story was also… not a happy one'._

She remembered the bereft feeling that hit her body upon the sudden pain and hollowness of his eyes when she demanded to know about why he left the classical music world to come to _Tootsuki._ He declared it as a _'locked quest'_ with such heartbreak and finality. Her heart ached the more these connections with Mitsunaga strengthened and when she thought about his deflection. She _badly_ wanted know him… his past too, until she has inspected every single facet of the ex-musician gamer chef.

 _Knock, Knock, Knock_

Erina furrowed her brow. She turned around with a scowl set in place for which Elite Ten member who finally had the decency to show up for _one_ match out of the whole Autumn Elections. The door handle started to twist and the white door slowly swung open.

Vivid blue wiped the scowl from her face.

It was Mitsunaga.

Erina stiffened and sucked her breath in. He stayed just at the opening, his feet planted and hesitant in the gap. Erina felt her heart jumped in her throat. Oh no, she thought about him too many times and he spawned from out of nowhere to answer her! _Did he somehow read her mind!?_ Heat crept up her cheeks as she stared at him incredulously. Her hands flew up and fiddled with her long hair, overwhelmed with the need to make sure it wasn't tangled too much. Memories of their kiss _and_ there first awkward and rushed date sprinted to the forefront of her mind. His tall frame lingered before her, his large hand and beautifully long fingers still holding the door handle. His eyes were as clear and dark blue as always. They were sparkling dark sapphires peeking from beneath his raven fringe which she noticed was a bit longer than when she first met him. It seemed he tucked some of it behind his ears. However, it was still too short for it and most of it fell away to partially cover his eyes, making him look all the more enigmatic. His thin and perfect lips were slightly parted and his cheeks a bit flushed too.

Erina bit her lip.

Suddenly, his head turned to hers. It was as if time stopped as their eyes connected and shared a short moment with each other. Instead, it felt impossible long. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly as if silently greeting her. Erina looked away… looked back at him once more… nodded… and looked away again, with pursed lips. Damn it! She was so skittish!

"You wanted to see me Isshiki- _senpai?_ ", spoke Mitsunaga

"Oh yes! Thank you for coming so quickly".

Erina twisted around, raising her brow at the smiling Seventh Seater for an explanation. He blatantly ignored her to go and welcome Mitsunaga and clapped him on the shoulder. Then Isshiki- _senpai_ turned around, for once opening his eyes to direct sky-blue gemstones at her. His smile never left his face.

"Nakiri-kun, would you mind if Mitsunaga-kun and I have a private chat here? I need to talk to him about something important"

"Are you asking me to _leave_?".

"If you could".

Urgh… If he wasn't her upperclassman she would've told him to get lost and find someplace else for his little chat. Erina rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically as she collected her book-bag, making sure everything was in place. She gave one cursory perusal of the coffee table to make sure she didn't forget anything. As she passed Isshiki- _senpai_ , she made sure to give him her most scathing glare for asking her such a humiliating request and flicked her hair over her shoulder. A Nakiri was _never_ asked to leave a room. She wasn't going to come back. Isshiki- _senpai_ could report on the second match all by himself for all she cared.

She was out the door before she could change her mind, turn around and snap at him. Her simmering annoyance died down quickly at that unbecoming notion and she thought of something else she could be doing to pre-occupy and distract her frazzled state of mind, such as getting some paperwork finished before Hisako was due back.

"Nakiri, wait!".

Erina turned around immediately. Her back sprang up at the sudden confrontation of the tall, dark-haired student chef. It was as if he dashed with all his might from the start-line to her and slowed down to a half-hearted jog, leaving a metre distance between the two. He huffed and puffed. Wow… his fitness level was quite poor. Did he not participate in gym-class or something? Erina's jaw dropped in astonishment, trying to figure out what on Earth was so urgent to make him chase her down a few metres like that! He straightened himself up and Erina realised his flush had intensified.

"Umm… before you go, I was just wondering if you're free the day after my match".

Erina blinked.

Was he… asking her _out_ again?!

Erina wracked her brain. Calm down, there was no need to hyperventilate or make a big fuss. Since Mitsunaga was now her boy—… boyf—… b—… She shutted down _that word_ hard and endeavoured to just concentrate on the here and now. The day after his and Mimasaka's match, was it? Well, she had a tonne of things to do. She had reports to go over, she had meeting agenda's to set, she had documents to sign, she had taste-testing appointments, she had requests and applications to deliberate on with the other Elite Ten Members but… they weren't urgent and she could probably re-schedule them. That wasn't the point! The two of them just went out to town together a few days ago! They had coffee, cake and visited all her favourite shops and everything! Dates were weekly or fortnightly occurrences right? That's what the _shoujou manga_ outlined. This was feeling a little too rushed for her taste and if she didn't put her foot down…

"U-Uh… I suppose, I could spare an hour or so… _just an hour!"._

Mitsunaga beamed. The corner of his eyes crinkled again and his features softened like a little child's. His rare smiles ground her insides into pixie dust and made her blush harder. Erina didn't know where to look on him without combusting on the spot so she looked down at the pair of silver headphones he always wore around his neck. So much for putting her foot down… She could probably pat herself on the back for being strict with her time at least.

Hang on a minute. What was that sound? Then she realised what it was.

"Your headphones are still playing music" she pointed to it.

"Hmm? Oh whoops, so they are".

He raise his hand and tapped something on the side of his large silver headphones that was resting against his collar bone. The music ceased. From what she could tell, it was some sort of atmospheric piece more than anything else.

"It's _**Track 51**_ in case you were wondering".

"I was not". She deadpanned.

He chuckled. "Anyway, thanks. I'll meet you after class the day after tomorrow".

Erina nodded stiffly and watched him turn around to rush back to Isshiki- _senpai_. He confused her when he skidded to a halt and returned to her. Before Erina knew it, Mitsunaga was a lot closer than before, standing toe-to-toe with her to be exact. Her heart-rate sped up and blood rushed to her face once more! She glared hard amethysts at him and she opened her mouth, ready to back up and inform him that he was invading her personal space but then something light and warm dropped onto her forehead, causing her to shut her eyes and wince.

It was a kiss.

"Everything's gonna be alright. I promise".

Erina stumbled back and placed her fingers on her forehead, flabbergasted at what had just happened in a corridor where any official could just walk in and see him do such a thing! Too late now, what's done was done and thankfully their surroundings were empty and nobody was around witness such a casual public display of affection. The softness and warmth of his lips on her forehead had instantly quelled the conflicting and insecure claws that battered her mind for days. As if his kiss was a physical manifestation of the promise in his words. She quite… _liked_ i _t_ … Elation filled her and maybe being confident in Mitsunaga didn't seem so hard anymore. Her cheeks continued to burn and Erina refused to show him how much she was okay with that peck, so she threw up her façade and pursed her lips and scoffed in displeasure.

"Wh-What are you talking about?".

"Being with me and all is gonna cause a lot of flak for you. So I'm just saying… I'll make sure none of that will get to you".

He knew… again he knew what plagued her.

"What makes you think you can promise that?".

Mitsunaga lowered his head to her level. She caught a nose-ful of his citrusy deodorant and a note of Earth and grass, meaning he'd been napping outside in the undergrowth this morning. Erina braced herself for anything unexpected from the casually affectionate boy before her. But nothing happened.

"Trust me".

His words fell through the air like water dripping down ancient and strong stalactites in an equally ancient cave. Clear and crisp. For a moment, Erina became unguarded. She paused, overcome by what he just said. Trust him? _Him?_ The boy who hid things as much as she did? He commanded her with a word she didn't think really existed in the kind of world she lived in. _Trust._ He made it sound easy. He seemed to really mean his words, which confused her further. Trust was seldom earned. People tried to take advantage of her any chance they got right from her birth until now. Her clients, her family, The Board of Directors, _Tootsuki_ stake holders, The Elite Ten.

… _And him._

Erina lifted her chin in challenge. She stared up at him, her gaze unwavering in the face of his puzzling smile. She folded her arms under her bust and cocked her hips to the side.

"If anyone _…_ _so much…_ as asks me a single inane question or make an asinine comment about our association, I will dump you".

His cobalt-blue eyes lit up like a ravenous bonfire.

"Yes, _hime-dere"._

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

' _I told him not to call me that!'_

Erina changed her mind. She no longer wanted to go back to her office. She never liked the Elite Ten office buildings anyway, they were stuffy and the fellow Elite Ten students who occupied it were incorrigible. Instead, she wanted to take a long walk around the deserted campus. It was so empty right now because everyone was piled into the arena. The peace and quiet allowed her to think some more in a more levelled and settled state of mind. With each stride her mind became clearer and more resolute. She had Mitsunaga now. A new beginning. Whatever crazy half-baked roller-coaster ride he offered her, she would take it and face him straight on. She wasn't going to let some _shoujou manga_ triviality rattle her.

She was 'Nakiri Erina'.

She was _indomitable._

And she wasn't going to think about _that man_ anymore. Erina entombed her memories of _him_ in thick walled ice. Then abruptly, she paused to close her eyes and take in a deep breath of cool air. Erina steeled herself to only think of her future from here on in. A future she would mould, build and direct. She could do this…

Mitsunaga Yozora was the first stepping stone.

"Good morning, Nakiri-san. What a pleasant surprise".

Erina bristled sharply. The posh _Kansai_ lilt was unmistakable. She stiffly turned her head around to find some distance away, the tall and elegant third year student who was Mitsunaga's _senpai._ He eyed her curiously from behind his spectacles. Erina turned around fully and re-adjusted her book bag. He seemed to be on his way to the arena. He looked polished and flawless as always. Instead, Ishikagaku- _senpai_ back tracked and approached her. His gait was measured and smooth as he strode with a confident and straight back. He lighted her with a soft and gentle smile paired with soft green eyes as he looked upon her. His smile was different to Isshiki- _senpai_ by a factor of a million. They were more mature and bore wisdom beyond their years of an eighteen year old. His patient gaze regarding her made her feel more at ease.

"Good morning, Ishikagaku- _senpai_ ". She murmured.

Erina reverted back into a bag of raw nerves, now that she spoke to him and realised she sounded less refined compared to him. She didn't know why but, she felt very small standing before the bespectacled student-chef, and it wasn't to do with his height.

"I see you're leaving the arena. Just as well, it's a fine day to be outside. I myself am partial to a stroll. There's nothing like an autumn breeze carrying fine drops that promise for a rain to come. But alas, I also wish to spectate the final match as I missed out on the first one. Will you be returning for it later on?". He asked.

"No. I have some business to finish for the Elite Ten".

"I see. Idleness is the devil's hands, so they say. Keep up the good work".

Did he just praise her?

Erina shifted on the spot. Her tongue was suddenly tied. Ishikagaku- _senpai_ was undoubtedly one of the most important people to Mitsunaga. Mitsunaga truly respected him the most in the school and it was very clear from the way he talked non-stop about the _Kansai-_ accented third-year student during their outing a few days ago. From his tales, Ishikagaku- _senpai_ was the one who taught him how to refine and use his classical musical talents to combine the immersive musical approach to the culinary arts. Basically, he taught Mitsunaga everything he knew. It wasn't just Mitsunaga, Ginsekai or even Yukihira who had a high opinion of him, apparently Isshiki- _senpai_ too. It was rare to find an Elite Ten who admired anyone but themselves, yet according to Mitsunaga, Isshiki- _senpai,_ who was the most cunning and cleverest of all the Elite Ten, would give any time of day to converse with Ishikagaku- _senpai_.

The way he was talking to her was so casual… did he have any idea… about her and Mitsunaga at all?

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?".

"Eh?".

Erina looked up. Damn! She realised that she'd been gaping almost the whole time! She blushed furiously and gripped the strap of her book-bag to her body. Her eyes darted away from his sea-foam green ones to anything that wouldn't wring her stomach. How did he know that words were stuck on her tongue? Stop it! This wasn't the time to act like some vacuous and air-headed high-school girl! She was articulate and smart! She was poised and graceful! She needed to act like it! The desire to know if Mitsunaga's important _senpai_ was aware of their new found relationship was itching into a full-blown panicked need. Because if there was even a _slight_ hint of disapproval from him…

' _Disapproval? Why in the world would I need to worry about disapproval from Ishikagaku-senpai?'._

Erina stunned herself.

"You looked like you were about to say something to me, but hesitated. So I gathered it might be important".

"U-Um…".

"Take your time".

Erina swallowed and composed herself as best as she could.

"We are— I mean… Mitsu-Mitsunaga-kun and… and I… we are… s-seeing each other".

A pregnant silence fell upon them, thicker than treacle. Erina's unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching Ishikagaku- _senpai's_ perceptive jade-green gaze. When Erina couldn't take the awkward silence anymore, Ishikagaku- _senpai_ laughed. His deep chuckle lifted the uneasiness off of her shoulders. His face had a re-assuring softness even when it came to rest as if it lacked the judgemental and bigotry of other typical _Tootsuki_ students and staff.

"I know".

"Y-You do?".

"Why wouldn't I?".

Erina felt the proverbial flick to the forehead. Of course Mitsunaga would tell him…

"All the same, _thank you_ for letting me know. I appreciate you being courteous enough to tell me. It must've taken you quite a bit of courage to summon the words".

"…".

"Might I ask you to summon more of that courage?".

Erina blinked "I beg your pardon?".

"One question".

Erina drew in her lip and nibbled it in wariness. Ishikagaku-senpai's green gaze fell even, but flickered sharply over her. She felt breathless as her nerves returned. She could not for the life of her figure out if Ishikagaku-senpai was inwardly frowning upon her, or accepted her dating his _kouhai._ It troubled her more than she thought. Okay, the next person _after_ Ishikagaku _-senpai_ who asked her about her relationship will be the reason for her to dump Mitsunaga, whether it was his fault or not. She nodded her ascent.

"Why, Yozora-kun".

"What?".

"What is it about Yozora-kun, that made you accept him?".

"I— I…". Her voice petered out.

Erina was struck. It was the very question she had been mulling over! Her lips quivered and she knitted her brow. If he had asked her what she _wanted_ from a relationship with Mitsunaga, then she might be able to articulate her answer. But _this_ question put all the responsibility on her. She felt like she was in trouble.

"Come walk with me, Nakiri-san".

Ishikagaku- _senpai_ held out his hand politely before her, inviting her to fall beside him as he led them through the campus to a more secluded part of the courtyard. She took his invitation as if it was natural. She nervously walked beside him, trying not to admire the way he looked forward in the direction he was going as if he was the master of his own destiny. Soon they came to a beautiful wooden bench that faced a small gleaming fountain surrounded by trees that brimmed with bronze and gold. He invited her once more to sit down first and then he sat beside her. Erina crossed her legs together and let her book-bag settle on her other-side.

Ishikagaku- _senpai_ spoke first.

"Forget _The Guild._ Forget the fact that he used to be a classical musician, or that he is into video-games and video-game music. Forget that he has any talent to speak of. Forget what others call him or that he is even studying to be a chef altogether. Once you've stripped him of all the titles and labels… _what does he have left…_ that still makes you hold him above everyone else in your eyes?".

Erina listened and she thought about it.

* * *

 _._

 _"You will not speak of this to anyone. Understood?"_

 _"I don't really care, but, I won't say anything if you won't"_

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"Why did you do it?"_

 _"Do what?"_

 _"Lie! You could've told Chef Doujima the truth, that I… accosted you"_

 _"There wasn't a need for me to do that"_

 _"But it was my fault!"_

 _"So, you want me to go tell Chef Doujima, right now?"_

 _"Uh… ummm n-no"_

 _"Getting you into trouble wouldn't achieve anything for me. Just because a tonne of other people want to see you get your just desserts, it doesn't mean I do"_

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"HADOKEN!"_

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"Look, I've known Mitsunaga for two years runnin'. I've never seen him give a crap 'bout anyone other than his best friend, Ginsekai… But there's a spark between the two of ya, that's different. Just now, he didn't actually wanna leave ya by ya-self even though ya perfectly safe in my parent's coffee-shop…"_

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"What if you broke your knuckle for real?"._

 _"But I—"._

 _"What if you can't cook or play the piano anymore?!"._

 _"You're right. It was stupid of me. I thought I could do it. I thought I could cook through the pain and deal with the consequences later. I'm sorry I made you worry"._

 _"I-I wasn't worried at all"._

 _"I have to do this… because the Autumn Elections is the only way for Tootsuki to realise the value of The Guild. We're not a joke. We're serious and have something to show for it"._

 _"Is it really worth that much?"._

 _"You have no idea"._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"… the last four seconds is yours…"._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"… Besides, it is not every day Mitsunaga-kun asks me to keep Hyouheki Kissaten open after closing time just for a sweet young lady"._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _"Everything's going to be alright. I promise_ … _Being with me and all is gonna cause a lot of flak for you, so I'm just saying… I'll make sure none of that will get to you_ _… Trust me_ _"._

 _._

* * *

"Kindness", exhaled Erina.

She felt the tall bespectacled third year student shift beside her.

"There. You've just told me what you value most about Yozora-kun".

Erina looked up at him, perplexed. He only bore a mysterious smile upon his lips.

"Only kind people can truly be strong, for without it they are just poor imitations of a rock that is so cold, it could shatter with a single blow from above. True strength only comes with warmth, with _emotional intelligence_ and forbearance. The strong _protect_ and _nurture_ no matter the situation. If you make a new relationship with such a person… a person who is _kind…_ you will discover that, that kindness can heal all wounds".

' _Heal… all wounds?'._

"Yozora-kun needs someone to look out for him, to make sure his _kindness_ doesn't eat him whole, or distract him from what's important in the big-picture sense. His heart is so _big_ and he gives so much. It becomes worrisome when he's not careful".

Ah. So Mitsunaga was one of those who gave out his kindness so freely or didn't know how to balance it out.

"Therefore, he needs someone pragmatic like you to help him learn not to take on too many _quests_ because he needs to devote time to learning to manage a Research Society, otherwise a certain _senpai_ will have his knee-caps if he overlooks another tutoring session".

Ishikagaku _-senpai_ brushed a piece of imaginary dust from his shoulder, perfectly gazing into the distance as if he hadn't said the most self-serving thing Erina had ever heard.

* * *

 **'Familial Love' is an absolute Death Trap for Erina, as we know from the manga (Azami Arc). 'Familial love' is the first experience of 'love' we get as a baby. I think a lack of that could** **stunt Erina's ability to accept 'love' in other forms like 'friendship love' and 'romantic love'. Poor darling. Well, she thinks she can try and put all that abusive-father past behind her as she explores building a relationship with Yozora? GOOD LUCK WITH THAT.**

 **Not so much Yozora/Erina close interaction in this chapter. But it's coming…** _ **coming a lot…**_ **(Sorrynotsorry). Everybody is busy with the competition now, so a lot of things are…** _ **backed up.**_ **(SORRYNOTSORRY). All that's left is Souma vs Takumi and Yozora vs Mimasaka! Unfortunately I was unable to cover Ryou vs Houjou in this chapter. But I'll have the characters reflect on or discuss it later on. So far I've written a total of 12 extended cooking and long critique scenes in this story alone. Bruh, I'm starting to feel like cracking.**

 **Thanks for waiting for me! Please let me know what you think about the chapter and I will see you again!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	16. Unsettling Aura

_Chapter 16 - Unsettling Aura_

* * *

 _ **Quarter Finals - Final Day**_

" _Wooooo! Go Yukihira-kun! Go Takumi-kun!"._

Hayato rolled his newspaper up into a cone at his lips and bellowed down onto the stadium. The boys weren't there but it didn't stop him from ramping up the Polar Star spirit. He and Yoshino-chan were carrying all the fighting power in the stands today as they joined forces to out-cheer everyone else in their section. Daigo-kun and Shouji-kun were in charge of looking after the three-metre wide banner that was hoisted up in the air. It had ' _POLAR STAR VICTORY'_ slapped on with silver paint, and splotchy gold stars. They were super-proud of their artwork. Tadokoro-chan was thrusted into an over-sized _haori,_ poor girl, with _'POLAR STAR FOR THE WIN'_ embroidered on the back, looking adorably embarrassed as the mascot. It was also covered in badly sewn stars. Meanwhile, Marui-kun and Ibusaki-kun were allocated to the wave-the-fans-like-it's-their-birthday duty…naturally.

' _The audience is so different compared to yesterday'._

The competition was fast approaching the zenith which created a renewed buzz from the students. Hayato noticed there were more VIPs and industry professionals invited to scope out and poach the contestants too. The fates have drawn the cards for two of the most highly anticipated and controversial matches of the _Autumn Elections_ to take place on the last day of the _Quarter Finals,_ no offence to Hayama and Kurokiba. They were high on the _leaderboard_ too but… they didn't make tongues wag as much as Yukihira-kun and Yo-kun did.

He looked up at the screen.

* * *

 **幸平 創真** **vs** **タクミ・アルディーニ**

Yukihira Souma VS Takumi Aldini

* * *

Yukihira-kun was the only surviving Polar Star Dorm member left in the competition. That was another kind of pressure all together. It reminded Hayato of the times when he played _first person shooters_ where the rest of his team were dead and being the only surviving player, could feel them watch and judge his every move…

He was just itching to go! He clutched the latest edition of the rolled up _Tootsuki Spotlight_ over the railing now. The old school publication published almost daily and it covered all events of interest on and around the school campus. It featured on major events like the _Autumn Elections_ and exclusive interviews from star chefs, down to quick blurbs on fun topics and columns with helpful everyday tips. Hayato had never bothered picking up a copy before because he reckoned _The Guild's_ blog was way more interesting, but when he saw Yo-kun's, Yukihira-kun's, and Takumi-kun's faces splayed on the front page, he couldn't resist snapping up a copy.

"Look! There he is!", Yoshino-chan squealed.

Hayato's eyes zipped to the far tunnel entrance. The small match-stick figure of the red-headed maverick, Yukihira Souma emerged from the darkness. Mixed but eager responses from the audience rippled like a killer whale's tail pulsing under the icy waters. He strode up to the kitchen station with his knife-case in hand and his white sash trailing beside him. His head faced resolutely forward and his golden eyes gleamed with a heart-stopping intensity aimed at Takumi Aldini on the other side of the stadium. It made Hayato nod in respect. The majority of the _Tootsuki_ students deemed Yukihira-kun to be an uneducated, foolhardy optimist who was reckless and attention seeking. Well, sucks to be them if that was _all_ they could see.

Hayato lifted himself up off of the railing and regarded one of _Tootsuki's_ least favourite chefs from the barrel of his nose. From what he could see, Yukihira-kun was brave and confident in everything he did, not because he thought he was talented or _good_ at it, it was because he knew who he was and was comfortable with himself.

' _He's probably the only guy I know who can look in a mirror of truth and see his own reflection'._

" _Forza, Takumi! Vai Takumi siamo tutti con te! Yukihira!_ _Se segni ti do mia fidanzata!"._

"Woah!".

Hayato yelped and reeled back with his arms flying around to protect his hair from the blast of Italian next to him! Wow! He had his motor running, didn't he! Hayato found his footing and spun around in time to get another earful of loud-as-fuck Italian chanting from Isami Aldini. That boy was practically screaming from the tops of his lungs like a madman. Who was this guy and what had he done to the _real_ Isami-kun?! Either way, he could join his and Yoshino-chan's vocals division. Isami-kun was so energetic and 'popping', and to be honest Hayato thought he was the brightest spark in the whole stadium. He was shining with unadulterated enthusiasm and was relentless as he pumped his fists in the air, whooping and cheering until he was all red in the face. The absolute passion, support and love for his dear twin brother couldn't be clearer. Damn, boy! What kind of _buff_ gave him this hype?

"Hey, Isami-kun. I don't think your parents heard you".

"O-Oh sorry! I just got so excited".

The transformation was impressive. Hayato had just witnessed the absolute nutter and fan for his twin brother morph back into the calm and placid boy Hayato came to know. His twinkling blue eyes crinkled shut in his shyness. Well, why wouldn't he be this excited? His brother, Takumi Aldini had been dreaming for this match with Yukihira-kun ever since they tied in Chef Inui's assignment. The ferocious blonde Italian chef had been incensed and fired up even more to take on Yukihira Souma for another round to finally declare who was the better diner chef. His hunger for competition and his short-fuse was always lit whenever Yukihira-kun was in the vicinity and it was only by the grace of his brother's patience and calming words that Takumi-kun hasn't suffered a stroke yet. Isami-kun chuckled nervously, but the boundless energy was hard-pressed to be contained in his now slender body.

"What were you saying in Italian? Cheers for both Takumi-kun and Yukihira-kun?", asked Hayato.

"Um… not exactly. I'm cheering for _Fratello_ but for Yukihira-kun…".

Hayato tilted his head forward to egg him on.

"I said… _'Yukihira, if you score… I'll give you my girlfriend'."_.

"Bullshit!".

"It's not what it sounds like!".

Isami-kun waved his arms frantically in the air with a hard blush all over his face. Shut the front door! Isami Aldini had a girlfriend?! That was _so_ not fair!

"I don't actually have a girlfriend! It's an _Italiano_ soccer taunt, but it's not meant to be taken seriously!".

Hayato didn't realise he was pulling a face until Isami-kun pedaled back and was wringing his hands together bashfully as if he had just admitted to doing something incredibly saucy for the first time. Hayato snapped out of it and coughed into his fist feeling a bit hot and flushed all of a sudden too. So that's how it was. Damn, he thought he was dealing with a totally wolfish playboy disguised as a sheep. He was never going to look at Isami-kun the same way again, whether that admission was true or not. He calmed down from his shock and bumped shoulders with Isami-kun with his own cheeky grin. That sly dog!

The younger Italian brother cracked a smile.

"Back in _Italia,_ it's a tradition for my family, uncles, aunts and cousins to come to our place to watch the _FIFA soccer world cup_ together. It's like… one of the biggest events of the year when it comes, especially for our uncles. My aunts aren't too happy about it, but once they got the wine pouring, the _Nebellio_ grape ones to be sure, they get very passionate for our national team. They will shout at the television and taunt the opposing team by saying random things like… they'd give them their _wives_ if they manage to steal a goal. I-It was the only one that popped into my head! So I just yelled it out".

Hayato shook his head and laughed.

"Man! I need to learn some of this trash-talk for when Yo-kun and I live-stream the next _BlizzCon_ in November".

" _BlizzCon?_ What's that?".

"It's a new _esports_ tournament we're going to watch. We saw the first one last year and it was so cool!".

"And that's…?".

"It's short for _electronic sports_. Basically, teams of professional gaming athletes compete in multiplayer games, like _real-time strategies_ , _first person shooters_ , fighting ones and _multiplayer online battle arenas_. There are different tournaments all over the world like _League of Legends World Championship_ which started two years ago in South Korea _, The International, The Global Starcraft II Tournament,_ and _International Esports Federation_ just to name a few _._ They're awesome to watch".

"Have you ever competed in them?".

"Nope, no way. _Those_ are big tournaments and are all overseas, like pro-level. We do play in smaller and more local ones right here in Japan, but the cash prize is peanuts compared to those bigger ones. It's enough for amateur gamers to compete so it's right up _The Guild's_ alley. But we only do them because we get _quests—"._

" _Ladies and gentleman! Thank you for waiting"._

Hayato swallowed his gibber-gabber at the booming voice of Chef Doujima addressing the audience. The whole stadium quelled to an obedient silence, even Yoshino-chan paused at mid-shout for him to announce the long-awaited match.

" _We're about to start the third quarter final match between Yukihira Souma and Takumi Aldini! The theme is_ _ **Entrée**_ _. Contestants begin cooking now!"._

The gong rang.

Hayato threw the newspaper over his shoulder and braced his hand on the railing, observing every single thing Yukihira-kun did. He seriously hoped all that time spent together poring over _The Guild's_ recipe albums would prove useful.

Like any good chef, he preheated the oven first. Upon inspection, Yukihira-kun had ordered a lot of ingredients for his dish compared to Takumi-kun. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary from a standard Japanese pantry so Hayato deduced that he was going to spin a traditional Japanese dish with probably a trick up his sleeve. Takumi-kun on the other hand, had only Western ingredients. This was going to be a clash of East and West. _Awesome._

Yukihira-kun set to work in prepping his dry ingredients. He finely sliced up some kohlrabi turnips, de-seeded,, trimmed the stems off of silverbeet leaves, and left it aside. Then he moved to slide de-seed and slice some bitt _—._

' _The fuck? He's using bittermelon? Shit, already ten minutes in and he's going to tank his dish!'._

The warty looking cucumber was probably the double-edged sword of the vegetable world. It's powerfully acrid taste was prone to stripping taste-buds and making one shake and shiver from the overwhelming bitterness if it wasn't done right. He hoped Yukihira-kun knew what he was doing because that better not be one of the experimentation dishes! It was futile to question Yukihira-kun's choice of ingredients at this point so Hayato shook his head and continued to watch him closely.

Bang, bang, bang one after another, he was like a conveyor belt of phenomenal knife work. Then he went off and peeled and de-veined his fresh king prawns with practiced speed using the bamboo skewer trick. They were perfectly intact, shiny and supple. Then he pierced them from the tail-end straight through the back of head with the skewers before racing them to the refrigerator like a boss.

' _There's the protein element'._

Hayato spied some _konbu_ and dried _shiitake_ mushrooms diving into a pot of boiling water which was the tell-tale methods of making _dashi_ stock. After Yukihira-kun fiddled with getting his other utensils out, he ran back and poured some rippled, beige _katsuoboshi_ into the _dashi_. It wasn't uncommon to combine two or three different _umami-_ rich _dashi_ ingredients like what Yukihira-kun was doing. It just meant that he was going for maximum _umami_ flavour. When streams of white escaped the lid, Yukihira-kun lifted it and a billow of steam ballooned out to reveal a boiling pot of dark sepia broth. The redheaded chef made quick work in straining out the _ichiban-dashi_ into another pot.

' _So far nothing too surprising'._

As soon as the thought crossed Hayato's mind, Yukihira-kun's chopstick rummaged through the limp and lifeless solids that gave the _dashi_ all its flavour and pull out the engorged piece of _konbu._ He started cutting it into small square pieces. Next, he cracked-open a fresh tub of _shiromiso_ and spooned some into a small saucepan with some _mirin_ and a splash of water. He placed it over the stove, mixing it all together with his chopstick over low heat. Once it all melted into a shiny and viscous gloop, Yukihira-kun flicked off the stove and put it to the side.

' _He's made shiromiso glaze. Again, nothing special'._

Hayato could hear the crowd putting their opinions into the pot. Their self-satisfied judgments were palpable as they collectively discounted Yukihira-kun's seemingly normal approach to his _entrée_. When Yukihira-kun did something ordinary, they jeered about how unskilled, low-class he was using cheap and humble ingredients to make cheap and humble food that could never win. But when Yukihira-kun did something outlandish and skillful in his cooking, the school was all scandalised and called out blasphemy. For fuck's sake! There was no pleasing them! Hayato rolled his eyes at the audience's double standards and went back to concentrating on the match. Yukihira-kun already had a wire rack plonked directly over the gas hob of the stovetop on a medium flame, like a makeshift _hibachi_ grill. He gathered the prawn shells he saved onto the wire rack and charred the mother-fuckers until their grey shells bled into rose-pink, and then the tops singed. He thought Yukihira-kun forgot to throw them in the bin! It turned out he kept it to burn them.

"Why is Souma-kun burning the prawn shells?", asked Tadokoro-chan.

"Is he going to do the same thing as Kurokiba in the _Round of Sixteen?_ Bash them up, and add it to his dish?", offered Daigo-kun.

While the small group bounced around ideas, Yukihira-kun went back to his _ichiban-dashi_ and seasoned it further. Then he poured half of it out into another saucepan but this time… he dumped the burnt prawn-shells into it!

"Eh?! He's making another stock!", gasped Yoshino-chan.

"It's a _fumet_ of prawns… with a twist", murmured Marui-kun.

Hayato peeled his ears out for Marui-kun's explanation, but kept his eyes on the red-headed chef. Prawn _fumet_ was basically 'prawn stock'. It was made by simmering prawn shells and was often used in South East Asian cuisine like _laksa_. Mainstream Japanese cooking didn't really use this type of stock as prawn shells boiled in water gave off a weird fishy smell. Seafood _ramen_ from regional or provincial seaport places might be the exception. Hayato tried to imagine that prawn-infused aroma and wasn't really keen on it, but then he imagined it kind of _burnt_ and it probably made more sense _._ It must be Yukihira-kun's way of masking the rank ocean-like smell with a more aromatic, smokey charred fragrance embedded in the stock.

… Hayato wondered what Yukihira-kun had up his sleeve this time…

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* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

' _Come on Fratello! You can't come this far to lose now!'._

Isami licked his dry lips as he did his best to transmit his wishes to Takumi _._ While everyone was concentrating on Yukihira-kun, he only had eyes for his dear _Fratello._ Takumi had been very secretive of his recipe and wouldn't tell him. He kept saying with a mysterious smile on his face that _'It will be a surprise'_. _Fratello_ only practiced his recipes at school, never at home and Isami gathered Takumi wanted some space to concentrate fully, so he respected that and endeavoured to wait patiently. Now today was the day.

For the first half of the match, Takumi had char-grilled his large eggplants. Their plumpness was reduced to their soft and wilted selves, packed full of sweet, smokey and nutty flavours from being tenderly and slowly charred by Takumi's careful hands. Their blackened skin had flaked off in large pieces which had made quick work for him to gently peel away the ashy layer. They retained their marred flesh perfectly with all their juice already squeezed out, ready to be used. Isami could imagine the smokey smell coddling the sweet and mellow eggplant scent and licked his lips again.

On the other side of the stove was a saucepan of _sautéed_ onions _Fratello_ was looking after. He had _sautéed_ them for a really long time and Isami was sure it would taste a whole lot better and sweeter. The onions were a rich orange and red hue from the garlic, herbs and cumin spices he added. There was thyme and freshly chopped oregano too and Isami could practically smell _Mamma's_ herb garden back in _Italia._

"It doesn't look like Takumi-kun is making an Italian dish", said Tadokoro-san, appearing by his side.

She was right. Isami furrowed his brows. Was this the reason why _Fratello_ didn't want to tell him? Isami perused over the ingredients and cooking methods again and it was confirmed that nothing about it said it was purely _Italiano_.

" _Non…_ It most certainly is not", he murmured.

Takumi emptied the saucepan full of vibrant _sautéed_ onions into the bowl of charred, skinned eggplants. He got his hands right in there, fingers-first, and started breaking the fleshy vegetable apart. He massaged the onions into it until they all became one sensuous entity. Takumi's fingers were firm and aggressive, single-mindedly trying to submit the eggplants into a moist mess. His blue eyes were hooded and scorching as he tunneled all his concentration into his task. The oils and juices coated his fingers hungrily like a second-skin and he kept torturing the eggplant until the entire mixture became a chunky paste, spent and unable to handle anymore of his punishing ministrations.

Then he lifted two fingers to his lips and _dragged_ his tongue along their lengths… knuckles down to finger tips.

" _AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"._

" _EEEEEEE~ Takumi-sama is so dreamy!"._

" _Look at those long and nimble fingers! I love them!"._

Isami dropped his forehead onto the railing. _Mamma mia…_ He should've seen it coming. Did he even realise what he was doing in front of everyone? Takumi had a habit of flirting with with food without realising. _Fratello_ was completely dense about the vivacity and number of fan-girls he had in the school. A whole flock of starry-eyed young women in the section next to them were writhing and squealing with absolute rapture at the first sign of _Fratello's_ tongue. What were they imagining in their little heads? Nevermind, he didn't want to know…

Takumi went to thoroughly wash his hands after taste-testing. Next, he put a pot of water to boil and once it reached the right temperature, he carefully submerged ten fresh farm eggs. By the time Takumi lifted them out and plunged them into the prepared bath of cold water, Isami knew he made soft boiled eggs. His eyes continued to follow Takumi keenly. After he cracked and peeled the eggshells carefully under the cold water, they became beautiful, smooth shiny ovoids with not a single tear in their bright white flesh, testimony to _Fratello's_ gentle but attentive fingers.

' _He's going to do some deep-frying too?'._

 _Fratello_ was now in the process of preparing some sort of breading with two more lightly beaten eggs in one bowl, flour in another and finally _panko_ bread crumbs mixed with black seeds in the last one.

Soft boiled eggs… eggplant mix… ingredients for breading…

' _Ah I get it now! Fratello's dish is –"._

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* * *

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' _Yukihira-kun's been grinding on his dashi for a long time. I'm glad he's moved on now'._

Hayato had been watching the red-headed chef poach vegetables after vegetables in his prawn _dashi,_ and straining it repeatedly until the broth became as clear as day _._ There were _enoki_ , _shiitake_ and _matsutake_ mushrooms, and baby sweetcorn. Yukihira-kun was very methodical. He made quick work in slicing his steaming mushrooms, and slicing the sweetcorn into little coins.

" _Thirty minutes to go!",_ yelled the emcee.

Yukihira-kun started charring the kohlrabi slices he had reserved on the _hibachi_ until they were golden brown before setting them aside again. He better not be making a kohlrabi stock too! Yukihira sprinted off to the mini-fridge on the other end of the kitchen station and retrieved his skewered prawns. He pulled out the skewers, tossing them into the bin, and then quickly lined the straight prawns up on a baking tray lined with baking paper and put it in the oven.

' _Now let's see what Takumi-kun is up to'._

Hayato switched positions and looked over to the Italian chef's side of the stadium.

He was pulling some cling film out and spooned some of that eggplant mixture he had before onto it. Then he pulled out another layer of cling film and covered the top. Just as Hayato guessed, he pressed it down with his hands until the eggplant mixture spread out and became a thin circular layer. Takumi-kun peeled off the top cling film and placed one boiled egg right in the centre of the flat circular eggplant mix. Hayato leaned closer to spy what he was going to do next. Then he pulled the sides of the bottom cling film up and…

… wrapped up the whole egg!

"He's gonna deep-fry them", murmured Hayato.

Takumi-kun played around with the egg in his palms, now enveloped in a thin covering of spicy eggplant-onion mix to make sure not a speck of pearlescent white was peeking through. Like clock-work, he went through with the beaten eggs, the fine dusting of flour and finally the _panko_ bread crumbs before gently dipping them into the hot oil of the deep fryer. As soon as the panko-encrusted egg dipped, the oil bloomed into huge clouds of tiny yellow bubbles like ravenous piranhas devouring their prey. Takumi-kun repeated the whole process with all the other nine eggs, in between frying them and taking them out to drain the oil on some paper-towels.

' _I'm not seeing anything Italian yet. Does Takumi-kun have a different approach?'._

They were perfectly round, crusty and crunchy golden brown. There were specks of the black seeds mixed with the _panko_ dotting the surface like little birthmarks. They shined under the stadium lights like cute, little and strange _faberge_ eggs of the cooking world. Hayato could drool thinking about sinking his teeth into the crispy exterior to get to the spicy and herby flavours of the char-grilled eggplants and onions before feeling the creamy and smooth melted insides of the yolk sliding across his tongue.

" _Ten minutes to go!"_ , yelled the emcee.

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* * *

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' _Yukihira-kun is up to the last part' too!'._

It was near plating-up time. Isami felt he could afford to keep an eye out on Yukihira-kun too. _Fratello's_ rival had been giving it everything he got as well. The rapid fire cutting and slicing and the finesse in his techniques was outstanding, just as outstanding as Takumi's. Yukihira-kun had been glazing his prawns with _miso_ glaze on and off in perfectly timed intervals as they took turns baking in the oven. Once Isami could see all the glaze was used up, Yukihira flicked off the switch and took out the _miso-_ glazed prawns. He threw off his ovenmits and reached under the bench to pull out a…

… blowtorch!

' _Che?'._

From what Isami understood, it normally wasn't a good idea to let Yukihira-kun around certain compact kitchen tools that could be abused for fun and games. A blow-torch and a smoking gun were a few of those things. As much as the maverick chef loved to use them to enhance the flavours of his dishes, he also liked to use them _outside_ the realm of cooking. One incident came to mind where Yoshino-chan complained about how Yukihira-kun tried to smoke some ants out of his dorm room with the smoking gun and ended up filling up the whole room with smoke. It caused Daimidou-san to freak out and raise the fire alarm, _and_ evacuate all the students. When she found out what Yukihira-kun did, she'd banned him from using it in the Dorms without Ibusaki-kun's supervision. Another incident that suddenly popped in his mind was the time Yukihira-kun was smitten with using the new model of blowtorch Isshiki- _senpai_ had bought. He borrowed it and blowtorched every single ingredient he used when concocting his experimental recipes. All the spare fuel Isshiki- _senpai_ had bought for it was gone within three days. The second year student had been _far_ from impressed.

"Argh! That troublemaker! Try not to look so happy to be using that!", Yoshino-chan yelled.

Isami chuckled.

The wide Cheshire grin on the red-headed chef's face was testimony to his unbridled joy to be using his favourite kitchen gimmick again without anyone stopping him. He charred the backs of the prawn gently and lightly, moving the small kitchen blowtorch from side to side until the dark-brown and rosey colours of the _miso_ -glazed prawns blackened only a touch. Yukihira-kun's control was so even and light, there was no way for the prawns to taste burnt, but instead a full smokey flavour was promised.

Yukihira-kun ducked below the kitchen bench and pulled out a set of five white dishes with wide uneven rims and a set of five tall, white _tokkuri_ which Isami had come to know as the small ceramic flasks for pouring _sake._

' _Oh! he's plating now!'._

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* * *

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' _Takumi-kun isn't too far behind Yukihira-kun'._

Hayato chewed on his nail as he switched from spectating Yukihira-kun to Takumi-kun. Once Takumi-kun had deep-fried all of his _panko_ encrusted eggs, he sliced them down length ways.

' _What's he doing? The egg yolk is gonna run!'._

Hayato finally bit through his nail and spat it out to the side. His brows knitted as he leaned ever forward. He glanced over to see Isami-kun's reaction. The younger brother was just as surprised and confused. They both knew the eggs were only _soft boiled_ based on how long Takumi-kun had left it in the water. That was when Takumi-kun's quick skills came into play. His knife had to be unbelievably sharp _and_ hands be unbelievably fast because not a single drop of lustrous orange egg yolk escaped their confines. The two halves of the eggs laid on their sides like boats. Then the Aldini scooped out the yolks with a teaspoon and deposited it into a bowl. He continued to do this with every single egg! The crust enveloping each half remained completely and perfectly intact, despite being cleaved, which was a miracle in itself. There were no excessive cracks or breaks in the golden-brown speckled _panko_ from Takumi-kun's knife-work.

 _'Watch out, Yo-kun. Your knife skills are under threat'._ Hayato imagined his best friend freaking out.

The large bowl was filled with the semi-solid and runny egg-yolks and the egg-halves looked oddly naked without their yellow-orange insides. Takumi-kun ripped open another tub that was in the mini-fridge and drained it out. Whatever was left inside, he also put it into the bowl with the egg yolks.

"Ah! It's _bocconcini!",_ gasped Isami-kun.

Finally! There was the Italian bit. Takumi-kun was mashing the egg yolks with the soft Italian _mozzarella_ cheese-balls with a fork. They were really soft from the way Takumi-kun could easily mash them and incorporate them into the yolks. They turned into a pastel yellow, chunky paste. Next, he carefully spooned his new mixture into the empty alcoves of the eggs. Again, Takumi-kun was a picture of expert chef skills as he carefully lifted each _panko_ encrusted egg halves onto five awaiting glazed, rectangular shaped _tapas_ dish. The dish was already adorned with feathery beds of fresh thyme sprigs. Good idea, the scent of thyme would enhance the judges dining experience too. Each dish had four egg halves with little mole hills of the egg-yolk _boccincini_ mix in each of their bellies, resting on the thyme.

' _He's garnishing now'._

Takumi-kun seemed to be fiddling with a small canister in his hands, but the blonde Italian chef's arms were in the way so Hayato couldn't see. But when the chef bent over the dishes at a different angle, he could at least see something bright red and thready being carefully arranged with tweezers on each of the eggs.

Ah.

It was _saffron._

" _First to finish is Takumi Aldini! Please present your dish!"._

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Takumi stood back and wiped the sweat from his brow. He threw his head over to Yukihira and couldn't help but smile in his direction. The red-headed chef was just finishing off his fifth plate when he too straightened up. He placed his hand on his hips and fanned his face with the other. Yukihira was just as spent as he was and nothing made Takumi gladder than seeing his ultimate rival putting his all into the _duello_. This _duello_ was a long time coming and Takumi couldn't think of a more fitting place to battle it out than the _Autumn Elections._

' _Okay. This is it'._

Takumi gathered up his plates and brought them over to the judging table. He placed them in front of each judge and then the events official helped him with the lapel microphone.

"Wow! Well done, Aldini-kun. Your _entrée_ looks fantastic!", exclaimed Chef Kikuchi, clapping her hands together. "What is your dish called?".

He cleared his throat. "This is my _ **Aldini-Style Scotch Deviled Eggs with Aubergine and Manchego**_ _"._

"That's a mouthful to say", commented Chef Tsunozaki. "You better hope it lives up to its name".

"Hmm, you've mixed cuisines again, just like in my assignment this year! Scotch eggs are native to the UK and _deviled eggs_ are popular in Europe and America", said Chef Inui

" _Si_. However, _deviled eggs_ have its roots in ancient _Roma_. So this makes the dish _Italiano_ as well".

"Is that so? Well, the more you know", said Chef Mizuhara thoughtfully.

"Judges. Shall we then?", asked Chef Doujima.

"Please. _Buon appetito"._

He stepped back and held his breath as the chefs cut into the eggs.

 _Deviled eggs_ today were a big departure from the original _deviled eggs_ in ancient _Roma. 'Deviled'_ was the archaic culinary term meaning 'to make something spicy'. Originally they were boiled eggs seasoned with spicy sauces and then typically served for _gustatio,_ which was the first course, for the wealthy patricians. According to _Mamma_ , sometime between the fourth and fifth century AD, the seasonings for boiled eggs changed to include wine broths. Other recipes for it lead towards the sweet-salty flavour profiles. Then, in the thirteenth century the recipe traveled to Spain, which was called _Andulasia_ at the time, and it evolved yet again to include more Spanish flavours. By the fifteenth century, it became really popular in medieval cookbooks all across Europe.

Marui-san wasn't the only one with a fountain of knowledge. _Mamma_ was the best culinary historian in _Italia_ before she married _Pappa._ Naturally, his younger self was very inquisitive and chatted with _Mamma_ often to expand his culinary horizon even as a child.

"Hmmph! The intensity of the smokey aubergines and the sharp _manchego_ cheese is so bright. It really pops. The spices and herbs you've used in them are so flavourful and really compliments the strength of the _manchego_ cheese", said Chef Doujima.

Takumi nodded feeling very satisfied. _Manchego_ cheese had a very distinctive flavour. It was well developed but not too strong, creamy with a slight piquancy and it left an aftertaste that was characteristic of sheep milk. Its firm and buttery texture wasn't something Takumi felt he could pass up as he needed some _umami_ elements whilst deep-frying his eggs. But to work around the gaminess of the sheep's milk aftertaste for the Japanese palate, he used fragrant herbs and spices in his mixture to lessen it just a tad.

"These are nigella seeds, right? It gives the crust a nice touch as well. The light bitterness holds the vibrant flavours of the covering and then it grounds it to your palate which I think is great. Hmmmm~", moaned Chef Inui.

Takumi puffed out his chest in pride.

"I see you've spun this into a vegetarian dish too which is perfect for an _entrée._ You've substituted the mice meat, which would normally be used in the covering for the London-style scotch eggs. Instead the overall dish is moist and light, giving you enough leverage for the main course", said Chef Mizuhara.

"Eh? Did anyone try the yolk yet? It's so delicious, creamy and spicy! The soft richness of it harmonises with the full creaminess of the _bocconcini._ It feels really silky and at the same time, you've left small chunks of the egg yolk and the _bocconcini_ to give it the extra texture. The paprika in my opinion gives it an exciting kick which is great. Now… there is a certain fresh sweetness in it that I can't quite put my finger on…", said Chef Kikuchi.

"That's because the answer is right before you, _signorina._ Not only did I garnish with _saffron_ threads, but I've also crushed _saffron_ into the yolk and _bocconchini_ too".

The chefs collectively ran their tongues against their palate and took more bites of his _entrée_. A flash of understanding passed through them as they nodded at each other.

"Aldini-kun. I really liked the way you captured the two different ends of the spectrum for mouthfulness, and wrapped it all into one for your _entrée_ ", said Chef Tsunozaki. "The outside of the egg is packing with colourful and smokey Mediterranean flavours while the inside is full and creamy. The contrast in textures with the crunchy _panko_ exterior and soft insides of the egg and egg yolk mix gives it a variety to the dish too. I think this demonstrates how you utilise as many elements as you can to make the dining experience memorable to the diner".

" _Gracias_ , Chef Tsunozaki", Takumi bowed.

"No. Thank _you"_ , beamed Chef Doujima.

Takumi bowed once more and cleared up their dishes.

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* * *

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" _Next to present is Yukihira Souma!"._

Souma popped his knuckles to relieve the pressure and burn off the adrenaline. Wow! That was some match. He felt like he gave it everything he got. He looked up to see Takumi coming back towards him with a confident and fiery passion in his eyes. Souma gathered his dishes and _tokkuri_ onto the serving trolley and wheeled it over. One of the events official helped him with the lapel mic for his diner uniform. He didn't have lapels to begin with!

Once he laid his dishes and _tokkuri_ before them, he stood back.

"Today I've made _**Shirom** **iso Ebiyaki**_ **with garden vegetables and burnt** _ **Ebi-dashi** **"**_.

All eyebrows lifted at his dish.

Souma had something sophisticated in mind when it came to the looks. Usually back at the diner, he wouldn't have had enough time to make his food presentation look like impressive works of art. _Oyaji_ would have none of that nonsense when there were lots of customers to feed _._ As long as it looked great and appetising, that was enough for the customers because his flavours would be the one that shined through to their hearts in the end. However, in the time he'd spent in _Tootsuki_ , and cooked together with and against so many amazing chefs, he'd realised how much he needed to up his game. There were other people his age that were just as good or so much better!

' _If I want to be the top of Tootsuki, I need to beat them at their own game'._

He'd realised that presentation was paramount to a dish as well. There was even a whole subject on it and was part of the compulsory curriculum. Taste and presentation went hand in hand. The eyes needed a feast as well as the tongue. After all, the eyes judged the dish before the tongue. If the eyes didn't like what it saw, that was going to bias the tongue. The brain was a fickle thing. Also if either were below par, that was going to set the tone for the complete dish.

Souma poured everything he'd learnt into this dish. The judges leaned over and inspected it. Their eyes scoured everything they could find and even rotated the dish around to catch all angles.

"Hmmm… this looks very intriguing", started chef Mizuhara. "You've created a dish with ingredients that are familiar to us, but presented them in a way that we're not used to seeing, just like Aldini-kun".

Three small beautiful small logs of singed golden-brown glazed prawns laid on a bed of his poached vegetables. Their speckled char stood out against the _miso_ glaze and the rosey-orange body of the plump prawns. As much as they were carefully arranged, so was the bed of poached vegetables. Souma was thinking about the gradient colour effect since his dish had so much variety! There was the cool colours of the green vegetables, the warm colours of the prawns and the neutral hues of the mushrooms. Souma made sure that the _enoki_ mushrooms cushioned the hero of the dish, the prawns, before surrounding it with the silverbeet leaves, bitter-melon slices, and nasturtium leaves like a foresty halo bunched loosely around the prawns on one side. It was also Souma's first time using the culinary tweezers to perfectly arrange everything to the picture in his mind. On the other side, he lined the small coins of overlapping baby sweetcorns and the _shiitake_ and _matsutake_ mushrooms. Souma had made sure the fine strings of the _enoki_ mushrooms weren't fully hidden beneath the majestic prawns.

"I agree, this is a very technical presentation. Simple and provincial elements, yet complex and high-class presentation, all in one which appeals to the wilder at heart", added Chef Tsunozaki. "It leaves me guessing with the dish, just to taste the different elements, flavours and textures".

"Let's taste now~", Chef Inui squealed in glee.

Souma gestured to the _tokkuri_ and the chefs poured a generous swirl of his special _dashi_ into the dish. The cascading stream of the glimmering sepia liquid transformed the dish into a _koi_ pond. The judges sipped the broth first and smiles bloomed on their faces.

"Oh my goodness! It's comfort in a bowl! What a rich and deep flavour! It's really punchy. The grilled prawn heads gives it a very unique accent to the _umami",_ gasped Chef Inui.

"Yes that's right. The broth is really interesting and charry. You've made sure you've had enough time to develop the _dashi_ and it's paid off. Good job!" agreed Chef Kikuchi.

The judges then dived into the prawns next. They picked it up with their chopsticks and turned it around before putting it into their mouths and taking a bite. Their cheeks bulged as they kept attacking the prawns. Next they went for the mushrooms and greens, keeping silent the whole time as they chose and mixed the elements together. Souma crossed his arms and watched them intently, fighting a smile. He knew enough that the judges were checking if his ingredients were matching or harmonising together in terms of flavours and textures. Finally, all five judges slurped their broth and placed their dish onto the table with a satisfied plonk.

"Ah~ The prawns were so well cooked! Less is more when it comes to prawns and I'm glad to see you've understood that for your dish, since they are the centre", commented Chef Inui again.

"Torching the _miso_ glaze was an excellent embellishment. It really amplifies the BBQ flavour which lifts the dish", said Chef Mizuhara.

"I really like the kohlrabi. It's a juicy, mildly flavoured vegetable and it really lends itself to being grilled. That gives the dish a nice tone", said Chef Tsunozaki.

"I thought so too" nodded Chef Kikuchi. "The poached vegetables are all nice and tender and I like how you added raw vegetables too so that there is a refreshing texture and element to the dish".

The chef's all turned to Doujima _-senpai_ who had quite a serious and pensive expression on his face. Throughout the judging Souma felt there was something odd about the way he was looking at him. Souma cocked his eyebrow not really liking to be stared at so much. He then realised that he hadn't heard a word from the venerable First Seater alumnus yet.

Doujima- _senpai_ was looking at him… but it seemed like… he was _seeing someone else._

"Bitter melon"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

Souma blanched. That's all he was going to say?!

The huge man placed his elbows heavily onto the table and placed his fingers in one palm and cracked his knuckles. The surrounding women gulped and gave him bemused looks for this really weird and oddly threatening display.

"Bitter-melon is a very difficult vegetable to use", he elaborated.

Souma's arms fell to his sides.

Doujima- _senpai_ continued. "Bitterness is an acquired taste. It's not everyone's cup of tea and so the bittermelon really doesn't get used often. The bittermelon you've added certainly _polarises_ your dish".

Souma hadn't felt this tense in a really long time. He didn't know what _polarise_ meant when it came to food, but the way Doujima- _senpai_ was saying it didn't sound too good. There was no sound from the audience. He could hear a pin drop, yet everyone was moving, just not talking. Doujima- _senpai_ continued to pin him down as if savouring the awkward and heavy silence and how it was successfully making him sweat again.

"Hmm… I can't argue with that", said Chef Tsunozaki. "Bitterness is my least favourite taste. The strength of the bittermelon was something I needed to prepare myself for when eating your dish".

"With that said… We judges understand the hidden beauty of bittermelon because of our refined senses of palate. But can other diners, affluent or not, be able to appreciate and admire the same flavours?", asked Chef Inui.

"This is about us, not other diners", said Chef Mizuhara, turning to Chef Inui. "We are judging the dish. Well, well Yukihira-kun. I bet you didn't expect your dish's success and failure to hinge on the bittermelon, right?".

"But", stated Doujima- _senpai,_ commanding the attention back to himself. "The fact that you _salted_ and _blanched_ the bitter-melon to curb as much of the bitterness as possible whilst retaining the colour and texture, it only leaves a mild sharpness which melds into the _ebidashi_ successfully and a crunchy texture that nothing else in your dish has".

Souma swallowed.

" _That_ was a lucky save Yukihira-kun".

The tension that held Souma captive melted into nothing.

"Now let us cast our votes!", boomed the Alumnus First Seater.

Souma cleared the dishes away and placed them all back on the serving trolley. He turned around and saw Takumi still there, crossing his arms and leaning his hips against the kitchen station. He nodded at him. Souma returned the same. Then he gathered himself and stood at attention, waiting for the verdict. Souma shook his hands out a bit and placed them on his hips to stop them fidgeting. Oh man… the last time he competed against Takumi, they ended up in a draw. That actually scared him… as well as excited him. Doujima- _senpai_ called over for the event officials and they placed the customary _washi_ paper, brush and inkstick already grinded into the inkstone. The judges lifted the brushes, dipped it into the darkness and started writing.

Souma turned to Takumi one last time. The Italian chef's eyes were full blazing as they stared back at him.

This was it.

There couldn't be a draw anymore.

" _The winner of the third Quarterfinal Match is… Yukihira Souma!"_

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* * *

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"You think you've thrown me off your scent, but you're dead wrong".

Subaru licked his lips as he leaned against the couch in the waiting room. The scrawny kid sat on the other side of the couch, absorbed in the post-apocalyptic bomb of Yukihira's and Aldini's verdict, but Subaru knew he could hear him just fine. His hard eyes were glued to the television screen and his face was as blank and cold as snow. Subaru was impressed with his efforts to ignore him. He let his mind wonder on other ways he could upset Mitsunaga before their match. He was attached to the hip with Ginsekai, so maybe he could crack a joke or two about him being his _waifu_ to sour his mood further. He was an _otaku_ so he could probably drop a few comments about how he would grow up to be a _hikikomori_ and end up in suicide.

Nothing was off the tables for Mimasaka Subaru. Hater's gonna hate.

Mitsunaga didn't greet him when he first came into the room. He carried with him his knife case which he settled beside his feet. He was all stoic and silent which Mimasaka didn't blame him for. He was in the presence of The Devil, after all. It made him deliciously giddy to know that he had affected and rattled Mitsunaga to the point of rendered silence. It didn't fool him. He smelt the boiling hatred from the gamer-chef just waiting to burst out of him like a ravenous parasite. Subaru smirked. It was too funny. He stretched out his arms across the whole span of the couch's back rest. His huge exhale vibrated in his chest like the smooth purring of a fine race-car mixed with a lion. He spread his legs apart comfortably to achieve that sweet spot as he sank further into the cushions. Subaru allowed himself a brief smile before resuming his gloating.

"Yukihira versus Aldini, huh. That's stirred up quite a commotion in this shitty school".

Mitsunaga remained mute.

"Aldini lost this match against the low-class diner chef. That's pushed Ginsekai further down the pecking order, making him more worthless to look at".

Not a single muscle. Heh. Let's take it up a notch.

Subaru spread his solid body further, knowing that his encroachment into Mitsunaga's couch-space was going to make the ticking time-bomb tick faster. The sudden camera-change on he television screen caught his eyes and he saw Yukihira and Takumi clasp each other's forearms, like some sort of brotherly pact. Feh… So fake. Aldini must be destroyed on the inside. He could smile all he wanted and play-act to be the gracious loser, but it didn't change the fact that his pride had been smashed to pieces by the second-rate diner chef. That golden-top wanker had been banging on and on about beating Yukihira and look at what happened. He lost. He was all talk in the end. Subaru salivated from the humiliation he knew the blonde one-trick pony was drowning in.

"You wanna know how I know about Ginsekai's cigarette burns?".

A twitch.

"I know the guys who did it".

 _BAM!_

Subaru grinned.

It was like the vexing of a soul for what Subaru knew was no longer human. He flicked his eyes up to the pulsing waves of murderous intent emanating from beside him. Mitsunaga was the picture of a vengeful dark knight. He was now on his feet, muscles coiled and jaw clenched. His fist was planted on the wall behind them. Ouch. That must've hurt, but not as painful as the free tid-bit of information Subaru smacked him with. Mitsunaga's lips were twisted and distorted into a feral snarl. His rage held all the power of a fire-storm. He could see the flames roaring in his eyes. His eyes… oh, his eyes were an incensed and inflamed blue that could vaporise anything it came in contact with. They locked onto Subaru's as if ready for a throw-down.

' _That's it. Let the hate flow through you. The more rage you feel… the easier it is to play into my hands'._

The deep chasms around the bridge of his nose and the furious dip of his thin brows fought to scar his pretty-boy face any further with that rage which Subaru was looking for. The glare burned so bad it was like fire lacing his veins and it crept up his spine in a pleasurable torture. All Subaru could feel was the deep gratification of his handiwork. That's it! Mitsunaga was overcome with the desire to hate until he became 'Hate' itself. Subaru was intoxicated by what he saw. Damn it, he loved what he did!

"Are you done", growled the boy.

"What?"

"I said… are you _done"._

Mitsunaga's voice was now coarse like fragmented rocks in a sack, moving and grinding against each other in his anger but low and deathly calm like before the oncoming storm. Every word was slammed down like a sledgehammer.

Subaru shrugged.

" _YO-KUN! Are you ready?"._

The door of the waiting room was slammed open and a parade of unnecessary bodies came bundling in. Upon quick glance, it was Ginsekai, Yukihira and the blonde _gigolo_ Aldini clogging the doorway. Finally pulling up the rear was the Tenth Seater Nakiri looking very peeved and annoyed as per usual. Why she was together with the bunch of mutts, he had no idea. The look of astounded confusion graced their faces as they looked back and forth between himself and Mitsunaga in their unexpected stand-off. The latter acted like he didn't even see his little friends, his eyes continuing to pierce him.

" _Scusi…_ What's going on?", asked Aldini.

"Uhh… you okay, Mitsunaga?", added Yukihira.

The dark-haired teen ignored them point blank. "If a _shokugeki_ is all it takes to make you shut the fuck up, then fine. Let's do this".

Subaru licked his thick lips.

" _But",_ he continued.

Subaru narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. Mitsunaga's ire had receded back below the fragile surface, just licking under the skin. It looked like he had time to practice pulling in all that powerful and destructive emotions since the last time they met. Good for him.

"Let's go _big_ for the _Elections_. I want all the other knives that you've stolen too. All ninety-nine of them".

Subaru stood up. He said _what?_ The couch groaned from being released from his weight. Did he forget what he'd told him in Yukihira's room in Polar Star? He easily dwarfed the chicken-shit standing in front of him whose glare was fast becoming annoying and they didn't let up one bit. He certainly took his time to start feeling all chivalrous and noble. Subaru's chest rumbled from the thought of it. Mitsunaga thought he could win _Tootsuki's_ favour for his measly little Research Society by trying to rescue back all his trophies for those losers who were foolish enough to take him on? Nice try! Once an outcast, always an outcast. The other misfits were thankfully smart enough to stay silent and not interfere as they watched their interaction play out on a minefield.

"Are you fucking with me? That's nowhere near a fair exchange. If you want all _ninety-nine_ knives, then your stake has to be a whole lot bigger than just _four sealed files"_.

"The sealed files are not for the knives. Those knives are _your_ _second stake_ ".

"What?".

" _This…_ is what I want that's equivalent in value for the four sealed files, if I win".

Mitsunaga bent down and picked up his knife case. He popped open the lock then pulled out an A4 sized brown sealed envelope from it. He held it up. It was addressed to _Eizan Etsuya_. That little fucker… he planned to accept the _shokugeki_ from the very start.

"I want Eizan- _senpai_ to sign this".

"The fuck is in there?".

"Do you see your name on the front?".

"Tch. Well Eizan- _senpai_ has nothing to do with this _shokugeki_ so he's not obliged to even look at that envelope much less sign anything from you".

"Oh. He's involved with this _shokugeki_ as much as you are _._ You don't want our sealed files for yourself, they're for _him._ He is the one who wants it and he's gotten you to try and bargain it from me through _shokugeki._ Basically, you're championing him".

"Prove it".

"No normal _Tootsuki_ student is supposed to know those files exist, only the higher-ups and The Elite Ten do, and they're _forbidden_ from telling anyone. But… _only_ Senzaemon- _dono_ knows what's in there. The only way _you'd_ know we have them is if an Elite Ten member told you. Your patron is Eizan- _senpai_ and he's always looking for a way to get one leg over anyone and people like him can't resist school secrets. Plus you're his best bet to get them without dirtying his own hands".

Subaru grunted. Huh. This guy wasn't as stupid as he thought.

"I don't know what's in the envelope, but if you think it's worth the same as those four sealed files, then fine by me. The envelope for the files… so they're the _first_ stake. What are you going to put on the table for the ninety-nine knives?". Subaru sneered.

Mitsunaga blinked. " _The Guild"._

"WHAT?! No, Yo-kun!".

The blonde runt leapt out from the side and shoved himself between his huge body and Mitsunaga's skinny one. Subaru stepped out of the way with a grunt. The blondie grabbed Mitsunaga by the shoulders and pulled himself forward, but the dark-haired chef didn't even break eye contact. So, Ginsekai ducked his face inward to try to steal his best friend's attention.

"You can't give him _The Guild!_ Y-Y-You just can't!".

Ginsekai was practically falling apart like a wet cake in a swimming pool in front of his friend who just stood there looking apathetic to his distress and whiny bitching. Ginsekai panted from his exertion and waited for Mitsunaga to say something but was met with nothing. His eyes wildly tried to connect with Mitsunaga's seering blue ones but failed.

"Now why would your _tiny_ and _barely-functioning_ four-man loser RS be worth ninety-nine of my trophies?". Subaru stroked his chin.

Mitsunaga gently pushed Ginsekai to the side. "Call Eizan _-senpai_. He'll tell you".

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* * *

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' _What the hell is going on?'._

Erina kept herself far to the back of the lot, not wanting to get too entrenched with the testosterone fuelled air. The contender's waiting room was charged with so much animosity that it was literally making her blazer fill with static. Confusion didn't even cover what she was feeling! She knew that Mitsunaga's file was sealed and that only _Ojii-sama_ knew what was inside it because Chef Doujima told her so, back at _Tootsuki Resort_ , but she had no idea that there were _four_ of them! Who did the other three belong to?

She had been on her way to see Mitsunaga and had bumped into Yukihira, Aldini-kun and Ginsekai who were on their way to see him off for his match too. It had been too late to fake that it was a mistake and turn back, so she bit the bullet and went with them. But now she ended up bearing witness for a feud between the 'perfect trace' chef and the 'gamer chef'.

To make matter's worse, the Elite Ten knew about the sealed files? She was on the Elite Ten! How come _she_ didn't know about them until this year! Did Isshiki- _senpai_ know?! It was getting all too much for her. Mitsunaga had never mentioned that Mimasaka proposed a _shokugeki_ to him… she felt _cheated._

Erina grounded her teeth, trying to keep her own frustrations down. Now wasn't the time, she'd deal with it later. _Argh!_ She really wanted to hit something or _someone_! When Ginsekai threw himself at Mitsunaga she was shell-shocked to see how cold he was. She was hit with a frigid fury as deadly as the Arctic winds howling within those dark sapphire depths. She'd never seen him like this before! His eyes were brimming with hate and anger… it got her fight-or-flight response shaking… Their unceremonious stumble into the room didn't even register to Mitsunaga as if they were nothing to him and he was utterly consumed with Mimasaka and whatever mind game he was playing. Then, when Mitsunaga revealed a non-descript envelope declaring that he wanted the Eighth Seater to sign the document inside it for the handing over of the four sealed files in the event that Mitsunaga lost the _shokugeki_ , Erina almost lost it.

' _I am going to wring every last detail out of him and make him regret keeping secrets from me!'._

Ginsekai reluctantly backed away behind his best friend and Mimasaka nailed the latter with his own cold, hard stare before taking out his phone, dialed it, and pressed it to his ears. Erina's breath lodged in her throat and her heart beat was too erratic for her to be physically comfortable. Finally the dishonourable behemoth spoke.

"Hey Eizan _-senpai._ The Mitsunaga brat's put up a stake for the sealed files. It's some document he wants you to sign… … … … I told him that too… He's also put up a _second_ stake for the ninety-nine knives I've got … … … … he said ' _The Guild' …_ … … … Really? … … … … If you say so. Bye".

Mimasaka pocketed his phone and crossed his gargantuan arms together. He leveled Mitsunaga with a very nasty leer.

"He's coming down to check out your papers. Heh. Looks like we've got ourselves a _shokugeki_ ".

Erina turned to Yukihira to get anything from his reaction since he'd been silent and stood back the whole time. The redhead was sporting a disappointed face as if he was battling with the toughest calculus problem. But there was seriousness to it and a wariness that spoke of knowing something Erina didn't. Great… her boyf – _that pain in the arse!_ – was probably telling Yukihira things that he wouldn't tell her. She had the mind to go over there and demand him to spill it!

"Mitsunaga-san and Mimasaka-san!", called out an events official holding a clipboard. "You have thirty minutes to get ready". Then she trotted away.

As soon as the event official left, Eizan- _senpai_ made his entrance. He scoured the room with his sleazy gaze.

"Woah, it's a party in here. How are we all doing?".

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

He smirked, brushed passed Erina and the rest, then walked right up to Mitsunaga.

"Now, you must be Mitsunaga-kun".

Eizan- _senpai_ was the slickest and the most underhanded guy Erina had ever met. His heartless and cruel tactics employed for his consultation business, and to achieve anything he wanted in the school left a disgusting taste in her mouth. She never liked him. His long, slicked-back dirty blonde hair was reminiscent of the classic delinquent and his equally dirty-gold eyes were narrow and beady like a viper. He strutted into the room with hands in his pockets, oozing confidence and sickening arrogance like he was covered with tar from Hell. The only reason why _Tootsuki_ kept him close to their heart was because of all the money he contributed to the coffers.

"Hey now, no need to look at me like that", Eizan- _senpai_ chuckled. "Mimasaka-kun said you've finally proposed a _shokugeki_ stake equal to the four sealed files I want from you. You wanted me to sign something if you win? Let's have a look then".

Mitsunaga handed him the envelope without a word, his eyes now trained on Eizan _-senpai's._ The Eighth Seater tore open the envelope and tugged out the document just halfway. His disinterested eyes flitted lazily across the page and they slowly became focused… attentive and then… _horribly annoyed._ He shoved the document back into the envelope and closed the tattered flap. He sighed and pushed his glasses up.

"So it's come to this then…", he muttered to no-one in particular.

His face reverted back to his dark Cheshire grin. "Heh. No matter. This contract you have is inconsequential once Mimasaka-kun emerge in victory. Remember, his tracing method in cooking is unbeatable ninety-nine _shokugekis_ in a row. Well, a hundred if you want to count Yoshino's fail from the _Round of Sixteen._ There's no way you can win against Mimasaka's track record".

"Say that to me after the match", replied Mitsunaga.

Eizan- _senpai_ smirked.

" _The Guild_ though… now _that's_ worth taking in exchange for a measly bunch of knives. You are _so_ generous to sweeten the pot even more for me. I'll get Kageura-san from the _Shokugeki_ Administration Department to officiate it. Let's put your money where your mouth is… Mitsunaga Yozora".

Eizan- _senpai_ thrusted the envelope back into Mitsunaga's chest, who caught it before it slipped. He cocked his head at Mimasaka and the creepy-stalker lackey followed him out with his own knife case, but not without throwing the ex-musician gamer chef another malicious leer and an obnoxious grin. The tension relieved itself in the room, but only slightly. The heaviness of the situation that transpired here left a huge lump in Erina's throat. She opened her mouth to say something but Ginsekai beat her to it.

"What were you _thinking_ Yo-kun!?".

Mitsunaga sighed and rubbed his temple together in clear exasperation. He slipped the envelope back into his knife-case and locked it.

"Why would you do that just for some stupid _shokugeki?!_ Those ninety-nine other chefs can live without their knives, but _The Guild—"._

"I'm not gonna lose, Hayato-kun", Mitsunaga cut in.

"That's not the point! If Kasai- _senpai_ finds out—".

"He's not the President. _I am!"._

Ginsekai choked at Mitsunaga's slicing comment. The blonde gamer chef looked absolutely exhausted and heartbroken but Mitsunaga was no better judging by the flash of regret that flitted through his face. Erina's heart twisted. She stepped forward; the heels of her loafers tapping against the floor, making the boys finally pay attention to her.

"Go get changed, Mitsunaga-kun", she said.

Finally, the dark-haired gamer chef turned his body to her, like a student in serious trouble with his teacher. His eyes lifted up just partway up to her face, just shy of meeting her eyes. Erina had so much she wanted to say to him right now, but she didn't have the heart to do so nor did she know how to start in this time and place. All she knew was that Mitsunaga had too much on his plate to handle the lashing she planned for him and he was a seething mixed bag of torturous puzzles that still managed to pull her heart to his orbit, even when she was mad as hell with him. He seemed to be aware of where he stood with her as he was on the back-foot and defensive from the way he was trying to be stand-offish, blushing and refusing to meet her gaze. He nibbled his lips before sighing again and pulled a small case from his pockets. He popped it open to reveal a pair of ear pieces and proceeded to insert them into his ears.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Nakiri".

"Be sorry later. You're going to be late".

"Look… I-I know you're pissed at me and have a _shit_ -tonne of questions but uh… a-are we still on for tomorrow?".

" _H-Hey!",_ shrieked Erina.

The shock caused the blood to rush to her face! Why would he say that _in front of them?!_ They didn't need to know! She floundered for a few moments with fingers grasping the air, trying to salvage and spin a different story to distract the three others in the room from the revelation of their new relationship and save her the embarrassment. Her brain jammed and nothing plausible or sensible came to mind so instead, Erina snapped her jaws together in indignation then frantically looked at the three other boys in the room.

Ginsekai had spun around and was entirely engrossed with his smartphone, pretending to be texting someone and sweating bullets. Aldini-kun flung his head to the side, suddenly finding compelling interest in the painting on the far wall with his wide and frightened blue eyes analysing every single brush stroke to death. Meanwhile, Yukihira turned the other way with his hands folded behind his red head and his biceps partially sandwiching his ears, having an intense telepathic discussion with the bland beige wall behind them.

Their acting was so appalling!

' _He told them about_ _us?!'._

She growled at Mitsunaga and puffed out her cheeks to stop the vitriol from leaving her lips. She had the misfortune to date the most eccentric and hare-brained videogame junkie and he had the audacity to look innocent, as if Yukihira, Alidini-kun and Ginsekai naturally came with the relationship.

"If you lose", Erina folded her arms and raised a threatening brow at Mitsunaga, "you can forget about tomorrow and all other days onward. Understood?".

… A tiny crooked smile and a flash of impassioned azure. It was enough to make her want to squirm…

"Crystal".

Mitsunaga's face resetted into a strong and determined expression. He picked up his knife case and strode out of the waiting room, heading towards the changing area. Yukihira, Aldini-kun and Ginsekai dropped their pathetic act and followed him half-way out, concern and worry awashing their faces. Erina stayed where she was, staring at the television screen showing that all the students and staff were back in their seats for the final match of the day.

"This way", commanded Erina.

She briskly pushed past them and walked out of the room, not waiting for the three idiots to follow her. She felt really icky in the revelation that those three knew about her relationship with Mitsuanga, and it _barely_ even begun! Did he tell them beforehand or did they figure it out? Sure enough they fell into place behind her and sped up to match her pace whilst keeping a respectable berth from her. Her violet eyes scanned the corridors as she navigated through the corridors and up the stairs.

"Wh-Where are we going?", stuttered Aldini-kun.

"A place where all four of us could talk. _Don't_ even think about it, Ginsekai".

Erina turned and pinned the blonde gamer chef with fierce amethyst eyes, warning him not to test her patience right now by running away from her. He _'eeped'_ and fell back beside Yukihira who was looking non-plussed. Otherwise they all kept their mouths shut. Erina guided them all back to the Elite Ten viewing box. Isshiki- _senpai_ wasn't in today. He said that he had some things he needed to look into, so once again, Erina was stuck to watch today's matches all by herself and undoubtedly, write up all the reports on her own too. Eizan- _senpai_ hadn't done any paperwork aside from organising the _Elections_ with Isshiki- _senpai._ She opened the door and led them into the spacious and tastefully furnished space. The boys filtered in an gravitated towards the couch, looking around and taking in all the plush decor, and admiring the view through the floor-to-ceiling window.

"Sit".

They all sat.

"I'm not going to even ask about the four sealed files. I'll make Mitsunaga-kun tell me himself. I _will_ ask this though; what contract did Mitsunaga-kun want Eizan- _senpai_ to sign?".

All eyes turned to Ginsekai who shrunk into a pathetic husk between Yukihira and Aldini-kun.

"I'm sorry… I have no idea. Yo-kun didn't tell me anything".

Ginsekai's bright blonde head fell into his large freckly hands. He carded them through his hair, messing up the stiff and gelled flaxen strands. He groaned, seemingly as frustrated and distressed as she was. He also appeared genuinely in the dark. Yukihira and Aldini-kun both looked equally confused and bothered. If the dark-haired teen didn't tell his best friend, then there was no way he'd tell those two either.

"Fine. What about your RS? There are only four of you and your RS budget is abysmal. It can easily be disbanded, and yet he believes it's equal to ninety-nine chef's knives. _Explain_ ", she ordered.

Ginsekai heaved himself to his feet and gave another mighty groan. Erina, backed up slightly unsure of what the troubled teen would do in his delicate state of mind. He dragged his palms down his face to reveal a set of anguished and upset eyes, shining with unshed tears.

" _The Guild_ is not just –! _Argh!_ If Mimasaka takes _The Guild,_ then he takes _all of our assets!"._ Ginsekai shouted and struck his palm with the back of his other hand, punctuating his point but Erina wasn't getting it.

"Which can _all_ be replaced, right?", added Yukihira.

Erina agreed, he had a point.

" _No,_ you don't understand! _"._ Ginsekai yelled at him. This caused the red-headed chef to stand up to face Ginsekai.

"It's not about the _equipment_ …!".

Ginsekai halted to gather himself, to calm down.

"We also have _**The NPC Network**_ ".

' _What?'._

Nothing registered to Erina. Ginsekai looked desperately at all of them with beseeching eyes to comprehend his nonsense, like a paranoid mental institute patient trying to tell them something insanely profound like _'The truth is out there!'_ or trying to convince them of a conspiracy theory. Did he honestly expect them to understand any ridiculous jargon he spewed without explaining?

"Hang on a minute… you mentioned the _NPC Network_ before, back at _Sumiredouri Shoutengai_ when we were planning to go up against the fried-chicken lady", said Yukihira. "You guys said that Tomita-san was going to be in the network if you guys helped us take back the customers at the _shoutengai"_.

Ginsekai nodded.

"That's right. _The NPC Network_ is a collection of people whom we've completed _quests_ for in the past. We call them _NPCs_. _Quests_ are tasks they want us to do, or anything they want us to help them with that's to do with cooking, event management, video-games and music. We complete these _quests_ for a _reward_ , just like in a video-game".

Ginsekai started pacing again.

 _"Rewards_ are generally anything they can offer us. It can be money, products, produce, information, ongoing services, and ongoing discounts if they run a business. We usually leave it up to them to decide what they want to set as the _reward …_ unless there is something we specifically want from them. If we accept the _quest,_ then they have to sign a _quest docket_. That's basically a service-agreement contract that stipulates all the terms, conditions of our services and their client rights. It includes the tasks clearly outlined and the _reward_ we get, along with other legal this-and-that, like, if it can't be completed, if our services go outside the contract, if they dupe us on the _reward_ and all that crap" _._

Erina nodded.

"Now… Part of the deal is that once they've signed the _quest docket_ , they automatically get inducted to _The NPC Network._ The RS established this so that those people will always have help if they need it because _The Guild_ gets pretty busy and we aren't always available for them. Instead, our other _NPCs_ must help them in our place however they can. Hence it's a _'network'_. Everybody helps each other out like one big happy family and we always know what's going on with each other. We also use our _NPCs_ anytime if _we_ need help too, sometimes in exchange for a _reward_ that _they_ want".

"These are legally enforceable contracts?", asked Erina.

"Yep. We had a lawyer draw it up and everything".

"So you're saying… if Mimasaka gets _The Guild,_ he also gets _The_ _NPC Network_ … which are people. Anything Mimasaka gets… Eizan- _senpai_ gets too… and that's really bad", said Aldini-kun.

"Yep, and… we have _exactly_ ninety-nine _NPCs_ ".

It clicked.

' _Ninety-nine…'._

So that's why Mitsunaga thought _The Guild_ was an equivalent exchange! He had exactly ninety-nine people with a range of skills and capabilities under him that were worth the same as ninety-nine sentimental knives which represented their master's pride and souls as chefs. Erina rubbed her chin. Eizan- _senpai_ had agreed to this _shokugeki_ but _only_ when Mimasaka mentioned _The Guild_ as the stake… so that meant Eizan- _senpai_ knew about _The NPC Network_ and deemed it incredibly useful to his own ends. The tragedy it seemed was that all ninety-nine of those _NPCs_ were legally bound to _The Guild_ as an RS in itself _._ This was a complicated thing she'd walked into.

But which numbskull in _Tootsuki_ gave permission for those four students to operate their RS in this manner!? It was preposterous!

"But… there _must_ be another reason why Yo-kun was willing to put _The Guild_ on the table apart from Eizan- _senpai_ wanting it… he _knows_ that _The NPC Network_ would be in great danger…".

Ginsekai stopped pacing the room with his head down and fingers raking through his hair. He was full-on concentrating as the gears turned in his head. Ginsekai was right. Mitsunaga really treasured his RS and took great pride in it. He wouldn't put up something he worked blood, sweat and tears for, for anything. Erina watched him with bated breath. He walked a few rounds again before stopping.

"Ah! Yo-kun has a _trap door!"._

" _Che?_ ", spluttered Aldini-kun.

"There is a way for the _NPCs_ to escape Mimasaka and Eizan's control if he loses the match! _Kami-sama_ thank my memory! There is a new condition in the _quest docket_ that Kasai- _senpai_ added in, with all the _NPCs_ agreement, just last year for all of our existing and future _NPCs._ It's called the _Exodus Clause_ ".

Erina begged _Kami-sama_ that the clause wasn't named after a stupid videogame and it actually meant what it was _supposed_ to by its Latin meaning.

"What's an _Exodus Clause_?", asked Yukihira.

"The _Exodus Clause_ under the subsection for _The NPC Network_ in the _quest docket_ states that there must be a unanimous agreement from every _NPC_ to _want_ to leave the network in order to nullify every single _quest docket_. It's 'unanimous' so it has to be _everyone_ wanting to leave the network at the same time. And _nobody_ wants to be exploited by total douche bags like Mimasaka and Eizan- _senpai_ and stay! Yes! This must be it!".

Ginsekai whooped and punched the air.

"Eizan- _senpai_ comes with his own sets of skills", said Erina. "He is a really good and sought-after businessman and he too has his own assets and a wealth of knowledge on the hospitality industry that these so-called _NPCs_ could really benefit from if they need to. I'd imagine at least _one_ person would rather stay on the network, which forces _everyone_ to stay, and that would end up foiling the whole escape plan Mitsunaga-kun is trying to use".

Ginsekai deflated before her eyes.

"I guess… it's a really slim chance, but it's the only way to protect our _NPCs_ from Mimasaka and Eizan- _senpai"_ , said Ginsekai.

"No it isn't!", Yukihira clapped his hands together, grabbing everyone's attention. "All Mitsunaga has to do is _not_ lose this match and everything will be fine and dandy, all the _NPCs_ will be safe then".

"Hang on, Yukihira… _Mimasaka_ is a really strong opponent. His _shokugeki_ records show it", said Aldini-kun.

Aldini-kun was right. Mimasaka won a hundred times in a row and they weren't by coincidence. Yukihira, Aldini-kun and Ginsekai were so blinded by their own hatred for Mimasaka's disrespect, malice and unsportsmanship attitude towards his opponent that they failed to see that 'morals' and 'principles' had nothing to do with _shokugeki_. Mimasaka worked equally hard to perfect his tracing methods and Erina counted herself wise enough to see that he packed serious improvisation skills as well. Skills that could possibly shatter Mitsunaga's video-game music immersed cooking style.

" _Er, may I have your attention please!"._

Erina and the boys stopped and lifted their heads at the sound of the public announcement.

" _The fourth quarter final match between Mitsunaga Yozora and Mimasaka Subaru will also be a shokugeki!"._

The shock of the audience traveled up into the viewing box. The walls weren't that thick. The atmosphere down there was one of confusion and at the same time escalating excitement, eating it up. Never in the history of _Tootsuki_ had an _Autumn Elections_ match been transformed into a _shokugeki_. But as long as both parties were in agreement and have accepted the conditions, then Erina couldn't see why time or place was of any consequence.

" _Ladies and gentleman, the contenders have taken the stage! In the previous Quarter Finals matches, the winner was decided by the collective opinion of all five judges. However, this match alone will be decided by a majority vote. In other words this match will follow all the rules of a regular shokugeki!"._

Ginsekai plastered himself against the window, clawing his nails to try to get close to the faraway and skinny figure of his club President setting up at his kitchen station on the stadium. Erina couldn't see his face since he was facing the other way, but that tall posture and pulled back shoulders spoke of a resolute command of all his mental faculties for what he was risking today. Did he truly understand what he was carrying on his shoulders? It wasn't just the fate of the ninety-nine knives… but also the other ninety-nine livelihoods that were under his protection.

"Mitsunaga is stronger. Trust in him. Trust in his music and trust in his _heart_ ", countered Yukihira.

There was that word again. _Trust._ All the lights could be turned off and there was still that bright golden flame to Yukihira's eyes as he gave everyone the thumbs up. She could close her eyes and would still feel the positivity flow from him. He was brimming with unparalleled confidence that the match would swing in their favour by the pants of Mitsunaga's eclectic cooking skills. Yukihira's ridiculous face and equally ridiculous smile made it impossible for her mood to dampen. She still couldn't wrap around why Mitsunaga would even want to take back all those knives when he didn't have to. The damn files for the contract should've been enough. He had nothing to do with those knives! If those chefs were foolish enough to bet a knife with sentimental value for the despicable Mimasaka, then whatever happened was up to them to fix up on their own. What would Mitsunaga gain from rescuing them on behalf of all of them? And he was willing to risk his own _NPCs…_ people whom he shared a bond with, for a bunch of strangers who _never_ gave him the time of day?

* * *

"… _The strong protect and nurture no matter the situation…"._

"… _you will discover that kindness could heal all wounds…"._

* * *

Erina shook her head.

…All ninety-nine wounds, she supposed.

" _The theme of this fourth Quarter Final match slash shokugeki is_ _ **seafood.**_ _The contestants Mitsunaga Yozora and Mimasaka Subaru have been tasked with making a seafood dish fit to grace the tables as a centrepiece main. Contestants, begin cooking!"._

The gong's deafening low timbre gripped the air.

Erina flicked her golden strands over her shoulders and looked out the window. She stepped forward gingerly, just beside Ginsekai who skirted away from her. She raised her hand and pressed her palm gently against the pane too.

' _He gives too much… It's just like Ishikagaku-senpai said… his kindness could eat him whole_ _…_ _Don't you dare lose_ _'._

* * *

 **Just a little reminder,** _ **The Guild**_ **is set in 2013 to stay in line with** _ **Food Wars!**_ **canon (Manga first published in 2012) as stated in** _ **Chapter 1 – Main Theme**_ **, so the gaming tournaments Hayato talks about are contemporaneous. Esports didn't take off and become big until early 2010s. Mainstream media coverage for it was building. Unfortunately, Esports isn't that big within Japan compared to other countries like USA, South Korea, China, Taiwan and Australia mainly due to stringent laws in Japan surrounding prize money.**

 **The** _ **NPC Network**_ **was first mentioned and talked about briefly in** _ **Chapter 6 – Bros on the Road.** _**At the time, it wasn't important for Souma and Nikumi to know how extensive** _ **The Guild's**_ **capabilities** **were, so Yozora kept it short and sweet when talking about it to Tomita-san, and Tomita-san could read all about that in the _quest docket_ before signing it, anyway. But **_**now**_ **the tables have turned and important shit is put on the line. If you think** _ **The Guild**_ **and Yozora are over-powered** _ **shounen**_ **main characters now, then I just have one thing to say to you… "The Law of Averages"… it is** _ **all**_ **powerful…**

 **Next up is Yozora versus Mimasaka! Strap in boys and girls. IT'S GOING TO BE A BUMPY RIDE.**

 **NOTE 2: Missing (?s) was also pointed out to me. Readers will have encountered characters asking questions in dialogue that **_**don't**_ **have question marks (?) at the end. This was on purpose as a stylistic writing choice when I want these questions to be read with a** _ **downward inflection in tone**_ **. (?s) always denotes** _ **upward inflection in tone** _**when read, to show that characters have a genuine interest in having their questions answered. Omission of (?) is more relevant to my posh characters like Kasai-** _ **senpai,**_ **as downward inflections are a common part of his speech pattern as a taciturn and sophisticated posh-boy and he generally has a smooth, gentle and even tone (not to be confused with monotone) to exemplify his refinement and maturity above the rest. Otherwise, his voice lilts when he's in a nice mood. Readers would've figured out by now that he tends to** _ **state**_ **his questions only when he is trying to make a point, use rhetoric, use a teachable moment, being sarcastic, impatient or fed up with something. That's why I don't add (?). I want the tone he grew up and uses to carry across to the reader, and readers have another angle of what he's like. Meanwhile, Erina is posh and kind of stuck-up, so rather, she** _ **demands**_ **answers when asking a question rather than sounding like she** _ **asks**_ **for an answer, so (?) is sometimes omitted from her questions too for that demanding downward inflection. A lot of novels I have read use this approach. I quite like it because it reveals a lot about a character purely through dialogue, so I'm quite happy to explore this style.**

 **If you have any questions, need clarification, want to ask why I write a certain way or why my OC is the way they are, or think I'm insane and way over my head and think I could do better, please let me know. I'm happy to chat about it!**

 **Until next time, please let me know what you think of the chapter and I'll see you (hopefully) soon!**

 **Signing off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	17. Over the Waves

**NOTE: Incoming +18,000k words. Brace yo-selves and pace yo-selves. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Chapter 17 - Over the Waves_

* * *

 _ **Quarter Finals – Final Day**_

' _I know everything about you'._

Mitsunaga was a classical music prodigy. He used to be both a solo pianist and an orchestral pianist until something happened to cut short a very promising musical career. Now he was a _Tootsuki_ chef, cooking to videogame music.

He knew Mitsunaga's daily routine and habits inside and out. His thirst for knowledge and obsessive sense for uncovering the minutiae of someone's life was an invigorating high that Subaru knew no other relief that could compare. He had checked through all the posts on _The Guild's_ blog page, _Facebook_ , _Instagram_ , and _Twitter_ accounts day after day for some preliminary research. He'd never been on any of their sites before as he'd never deemed the lowly RS worthy of anything, much less, potential opponents, so he was surprised that had quite a following from the gaming and _anime_ circles. Between times, Subaru did his research on topics that his prey liked so that he could be more informed, and he'd _spied_ on Mitsunaga.

The gamer chef would wake at 6:40AM for a shower and brush his teeth, get dressed and played a variety of scales on the baby-grand piano. Next, he'd eat breakfast with Ginsekai. Their monthly breakfast menu was based on the _Chrono Trigger Arranged Version – The Brink of Time._ He'd go to school, attended classes as usual, mucked around with Polar Star and always sat in the back row for naps. He'd nap between classes too, preferably outside whilst listening to music using the headphones that were always slung around his neck. They were _Bose QC35 II Wireless Noise Cancelling Headphones._ Even though the model was _definitely_ the wireless model, there seemed to be wires that were connected to the two ear covers to the smartphone anyway. Subaru had wondered why Mitsuanga customised it, but never found out. When school finished, he'd go back to the clubroom to study videogame music with Ginsekai. Useless musicology terms would bounce around which didn't do Subaru any good. Then they'd have generic cooking practice for three hours. He'd leave school with Ginsekai at 5:30PM. Occasionally they'd stop by at the convenience store before heading home. He'd play at least three hours of obscure classical pieces on the baby-grand piano or practice cooking for the match on alternate days. He'd transcribe some more music by himself. He'd cook dinner with Ginsekai and eat. They'd selected _Guild Wars – Eye of the North Original Soundtrack_ as their dinner menu this month _._ After that he'd play rounds of _Mortal Kombat Reboot_ and a long session of _Call of Duty_ with Ginsekai. Finally, he'd have his second shower and went to sleep at 12:30AM.

' _You have no sense of danger. Even knowing how I do things, you still leave yourself open and haven't taken any precautions like those other chefs'._

Mitsunaga had to be the easiest prey he'd stalked. The chicken-shit had probably realised the inevitable was coming and resigned to his fate, not bothering to hide himself from Subaru's microscopic view anymore. Mitsunaga wasn't one of those chefs that adlibbed and flew by the seat of his pants, as a way of trying to escape his grip during a match, if worst came to worst. No. Mitsunaga was strictly bound to his music… everything he cooked was calculated.

' _And that's what's gonna make it so easy'._

Mitsunaga didn't deviate from his own cooking. He was a faithful slave to his music.

He also didn't appear to have a cuisine forte, but it could possibly be _multi-sensory cooking_ which was similar to Nakiri Alice, again due to the nature of video-game music influencing his cooking style.

The most interesting thing was that he had a way of moving his body when he cooked his dish. His arms and fingers moved like he was playing the piano and in some instances, a conductor. Mitsunaga was ambidextrous and had excellent reflexes, finger flexibility, arm muscle-movement and memory, possibly from his days as an elite-trained pianist. His extraordinary knife skills bordering on the otherworldly, and because of that, he was quick and efficient and had little problems with upper-body stamina. He also had an excellent sense of syncopation and rhythm in the kitchen and he never needed a timer for anything, and no seconds were wasted. That strength allowed him to utilise _heat_ with impeccable precision so his food was never undercooked or overcooked, and his ability to multi-task was on point. The reverse grips, flips, twists and ambidextrous switching made his knife-work so quick and precise. His hands worked independently to his unblinking eyes too, always so coordinated and smooth. Subaru practiced every single hand and cutting technique that was unique to Mitsunaga until it was a perfect trace. It was hard work, but he _did_ it with all that experience in mimicry under his belt. So everything still went according to plan!

As a person, Mitsunaga was usually a creep, odd, poker-faced, socially awkward, quiet, private and sleepy. He hardly blinked. Unflattering rumours often floated around saying how he wasn't right in the head. Subaru agreed to a certain extent. The more he studied the ex-classical musician, the more he realised that there was an intense, thoughtful spark in him _._ Subaru had pushed the idea aside. It was probably just the way his sharp eyes stared without regard to anyone's comfort that made him seem like he was always thinking about something. However when Mitsunaga was with friends, Subaru saw he appeared just like any other guy once he opened up a bit more, for example with Ginsekai, the Polar Star runts and the Aldini brothers. He'd blink more often around them for one thing. He'd laugh and joke around with Yoshino, Yukihira and Ginsekai, and he'd have lively and constructive conversations with the Aldini Brothers about _Italian Opera_.

His friendship with Ginsekai though… Ginsekai was the chink in his armour.

Despite his covert operation, there were some minor blips.

The most peevish thing was that Subaru had no idea about _The NPC Network_ to begin with _._ For the life of him, he couldn't find out who was on it and where they were located when he tried to research them. It was both disturbing and annoying. It was like there was no evidence for them even existing. No breadcrumbs, no leads or trails. _The NPC Network_ was a black hole.

Actually, Subaru reminded himself that he needed to get a new USB and laptop fixed too. He kept getting computer notifications to repair his flash drive and every time he clicked 'close', it would pop up again and again, disrupting his work. It was useless because even when he clicked 'okay' to fix his USB, all the files on it and the same ones on his computer ended up corrupted! They were files for all of his typed up notes on his opponents and Mitsunaga's! That really got his blood pressure up, but there was nothing he could do about it in the limited time he had to practice his perfect trace. He'd no time to go get the files salvaged from the local computer shop.

At least he still had his hand-written notes, it just wasn't thorough, in depth, structured or presentable as typed up notes.

Instead, Subaru had concentrated on the here and now and had continued to tail Mitsunaga and had stalked him religiously. He lived in a nice and rich-looking apartment building on the rich side of town, and they lived on the fourth floor with Ginsekai. His family must be loaded. Maybe the blonde dweeb was his _waifu_ after all. Subaru had scoped the place for all the weak points and blind-spots, and was disappointed to find _only one_ vantage point. He took it. He used the window that faced the kitchen to prop up his hidden spy camera and observed everything they did and watched the feed that was live-recorded to his laptop, where he could watch from the local park. Unfortunately, the camera he used was kind of old so it had 'wobbles' on the screen from time to time.

On the other hand, it was a piece of cake to break into _The Guild's_ clubroom after school hours. Their tiny and dinky store room had four locked boxes of recipe books, each of them were labelled with their names. He only needed to lock-pick Mitsunaga's box. He scoured, read through and analysed and pored over every single recipe he had, all a hundred and sixty recipes. He was a fucking weird kid. He didn't even write the steps of his dishes in the regular way. It was like piano sheet music and recipe mashed together, it was probably the hardest thing Subaru had ever decoded in his life. It was riddled with _music theory_ and _notations!_ But Subaru was able to pick out the actual recipe steps itself and _Googled_ the music bits until he could figure it out.

' _I have your receipts… everything you bought, I have them all!'._

Mitsunaga had purchased ingredients during the week to practice with and it closely matched one seafood recipe from his recipe album! Subaru had the _shokugeki_ in the bag. As part of his methods, Subaru followed Mitsunaga and Ginsekai to the fish-market, butcher, vegetable markets and supermarket too. The boys went every two days to get the same ingredients with a few variations. This meant Mitsunaga was trying to change and improve _that_ dish for the match. When the brat had arrived at those places, the ingredients were usually already packed and ready for him to pick up which meant that he'd called the supermarket, butcher, fish and vegetable vendor ahead of time to gather and put together the ingredients for him. He left the picking and choosing of the fresh ingredients to the vendor? That was stupid. A chef should always choose their own ingredients because who knew if the vendors chose imperfect ones. Calling ahead was a nice try, but that didn't hide anything from Subaru's scavenging skills.

' _The ingredients you submitted to the committee matched THAT recipe from your recipe album, and your receipts confirm it too. That's how I know what you're going to cook'._

Subaru managed to grab a copy of Mitsunaga's ingredients submission form from the Eizan- _senpai_ before he handed it over to the events official that was in charge of processing the ingredients for the elections. It was confirmed… Mitsuanga was making _that_ recipe. If the gamer-chef could hear his thoughts, he would be petrified and horrified to the lengths Subaru would go to trace his prey with perfection! And so Subaru practiced on _that_ recipe, day and night, and improved the fuck out of it until all the inferiorities to the dish were reduced to zero.

' _Now here we are… to meet your doom'._

The excitement pulled Subaru from his reflection.

He rapped his thick fingers against the bench. The giddiness consumed him, making his excitement for this match over-flow. He couldn't help grinning from ear to ear, staring at his esky of ingredients which sat on the trolley beside him. He checked on it before leaving the building and everything was accounted for, from the number of ingredients down to the number of utensils. It matched Mitsunaga's a hundred percent.

The hiss of the audience got his blood running. Earlier the crowd had been so jubilant and the atmosphere was one of elation, the cool Autumn air occasionally punctuated by whoops and hollers as Yukihira's and Aldini's match came to a close. Now, the spectators were tense. His infamy carried across multiple levels of _Tootsuki_. He was an abomination to the students for finding indescribable joy in breaking their spirits but he was a necessary evil for Eizan- _senpai_ who sponsored him to fuck shit up with other chefs as part of his faction to demonstrate their power. The cheers were like a faulty firework, slow to start and rising to a weak explosion before petering out completely. Silent. Nervous. He soaked it all in.

" _Ladies and gentleman, the contenders have taken the stage! In the previous Quarter Finals matches, the winner was decided by the collective opinion of all five judges. However, this match alone will be decided by a majority vote. In other words this match will follow all the rules of a regular shokugeki!"._

Subaru glanced up at the screen.

* * *

 **光** **永 夜空** **vs** **美作 昴**

Mitsunaga Yozora VS Mimasaka Subaru.

 **食戟**

 _Shokugeki_

* * *

 _'Heh. Cooking is so easy'._

All one needed was to be just one single step ahead of the competition and Subaru knew how to do that. All the nation's elites didn't stand a chance of winning against him and he had one hundred out of a hundred victories to prove it! What was so good about being first-rate? Who cared about soul?! It was all about the taste and the looks. It was about winning over the diners! If Subaru could make a dish taste better than it already was, and the customers liked it, then tough luck. It was their fault for not working hard enough on it. Spouting crap like needing 'heart and soul' was just an excuse for losers who didn't know how to take it like a man. There was no criteria for 'heart' and 'soul' on a food critic's checklist. There were no taste buds for that. Any chef who believed in that was a fool.

 _'Otou-san is a fool'._

The need for revenge was like a rat gnawing at his soul, relentless, unceasing and it could only be stopped by the cold steel of a rat-trap. A trap he would devise himself. His need to crush those pathetic students was like an abscess on the skin of the soul that could only be cured by the cruel sharp steel of righteousness. It festered like a septic wound and the only effective antibiotic was cold, hard satisfaction for their pain. Savage. Spiteful. A dish best served cold. Prove them all wrong.

 _'Who better to crush than the hopeless dreamer… Mitsunaga'._

Who could ever thought of something as stupid as putting music into food. Music was music, food was food. That kind of bullshit was fanciful and a little boy's dream of living with the fairies, at best. His head must've been full of shit, dropped on the head as a baby or maybe he was just fucking retarded. Those two things made no fucking sense to be together.

Somehow, that idea defecated The Guild's weird cooking philosophy about putting their hearts into their cooking to tell a story for the diner. It was eye-wateringly dumb. Nobody gave a shit about how much blood, sweat and tears chef's put into their dish, unless the damn bodily fluids were mixed in with the food, because then the _hokenjo_ would be up their arse and shut down their restaurant. Customers paid for the dish to be delicious, not the chef's life-story. Nobody gave a flying fuck about psychoanalysing an obscure vegetable for an _hor d'oeuvre_ to some eight-bit _chiptune_ so that it could send the diner on a longwinded journey with a fictional old cripple doddering along the beach and his half-blind and deaf dog on a seventy-year hunt for a couple of monsters who ate his wife and kids. Yeah, cool story bro.

Mimasaka didn't have to look behind him to see how much he'd gotten under Mitsunaga's skin.

" _The theme of this fourth Quarter Final match slash shokugeki is_ ** _seafood._** _The contestants Mitsunaga Yozora and Mimasaka Subaru have been tasked with making a seafood dish fit to grace the tables as a centrepiece main. Contestants, begin cooking!"._

The gong's deafening low timbre vibrated his bones.

Subaru whipped the lid off of his esky and pulled out his ingredients, getting to work. The auditorium was filled with scandalised gasps as the onlookers marveled at the exact copy of ingredients on their kitchen benches. Subaru let slip a bubbling cackle from his lips, loving the feel of sweet pleasure tingling his spine as he snaked around Mitsunaga's legs and arms, trapping him with no way out but to keep making a dish that would was destined to be inferior to its new and improved version of itself. Mitsunaga's prison would be a perfect cube stuffed onto a train with no breaks hurtling do–

Something wasn't right.

They weren't looking at him. The audience should be stunned into silence and staring at him with disgust. They knew how it always went, he had the same ingredients to make the same dish but better for every single _shokugeki._ He was notorious for that! There was nothing that could be done, anyway! However, why weren't they petulantly glaring down at him with absolute hatred to fuel his sadistic pleasures? They were starting to stand up on their feet, animatedly talking amongst themselves and bumping shoulders as if they've just received breaking-news for some popstar or idol. The atmosphere changed into a revoltingly energetic cacophony as they got louder. No, no, no. They should be in awe and fear as every opponent's fate in a _shokugeki_ with Mimasaka Subaru was always sealed. What was going on? He narrowed his eyes.

One by one… their fingers began to point to the other side of the kitchen stadium.

Curiosity got the better of him and Subaru finally turned around.

' _What?!'._

His brain stuttered, not believing what he was seeing. Every thought tripped over themselves, sending his mind into confusion. He tried to make sense of what was happening, but the stunned choke in his thick throat continued to strangle his brain. This was wrong!

' _How can his ingredients be different to mine!?'._

Mitsunaga was prepping his ingredients… _his different_ ingredients…! As if he wasn't competing against the great mimicry chef, Mimasaka Subaru. His fast hands worked flawlessly and his head was bent in absolute concentration, as if shutting out the whole world. Then suddenly, a flash of glowing blue shot through his chest.

"Hey Mimasaka! Get cracking, time isn't your friend in this place!".

Subaru was knocked back into reality by the infuriating gamer chef. His voice dripped with sugary syrup disguised as poison.

"You've got a five-page recipe you need to cram into two and half hours. I should know. It's the one I picked for you".

Subaru didn't know he was angry until Mitsunaga chopped off the sea bream's head. Picked for him...? _PICKED FOR HIM?!_ Subaru could have decked him in the face for that arrogant smirk if it wasn't for the fact that they were in the ring in front of everyone in _Tootsuki._ That disgusting rise in the corner of his mouth as Mitsunaga skilfully gutted, cleaned and filleted the seabream was disgusting. He held his _sashimi_ knife, twisting it in the stadium light as if it could slice up the rays, his insolent expression exaggerated by the dark lashes surrounding his smouldering blue eyes.

Subaru gritted his teeth… the clock kept ticking.

' _He thinks he's outsmarted me. We'll see about that'._

Subaru growled, turned his back on the little fucker and got to work. It was now a race against the clock. He'd already made his improvements to this dish, so he was going to beat him six foot under with this!

Subaru flipped his oven onto preheat and got straight onto the _**lobster stock.**_ He crudely chopped the typical vegetables that made _mirepoix_ then pushed it aside _._ He dug his hand into the esky and pulled out the freshest cooked lobster the school had ever grabbed his cleaver and guillotined it before ripping the two body parts asunder. He pulled out the tail meat from the huge shell with slick 'pops' and threw it into a bowl. Next he bashed the shell of the head, tail and legs and butchered them up into further pieces until they were unrecognisable. The khaki guts splattered against his chef's uniform and skimmed his cheek. The innards stuck to him but he didn't care. He was going to colour it _real_ good. He scooped up the sticky and slimey shell pieces and dumped it into an oiled up pot on the stove and began frying them. He gathered his _mirepoix_ and stirred it in, listening to the hot sizzling as they coloured well and softened without charring. Subaru spooned in some tomato paste, his _bouquet garni_ and added water. He put it to boil and watched the bubbles spew the red seafood essence to the surface to mix into the tomato paste. Subaru inhaled the strong and fragrant lobster stock.

It was like staring into the fiery lava of _hell._

He could win this… he _had to._ He'd studied Mitsunaga's techniques and all of his recipes inside and out! He wasn't going to let him rattle him by somehow having different ingredients. It was too late to question the _'whys and hows'_ , so Subaru purged his mind. He would present an infallible and evolved dish that even its original creator would be destroyed by it.

Subaru reduced the heat to a simmer and carefully skimmed out the muck until the broth was smooth and pristine. He donned a pair of oven mits and hefted the huge pot and strained it through a fine _chinos,_ and left it aside.

' _ **Tapioca crisps**_ _now'._

Subaru combined tapioca flour and boiled it on high heat. He whisked it brilliantly into a milky concoction until the pearls became translucent and slimey. He reached over to the side and took a pitch black jar. Squid ink. He scooped out a table of spoon of the thick and viscous liquid into the tapioca and watched as the inky darkness consumed the pure white, tainting it completely until even light could not escape. Subaru liked how it was as black as his and Eizan- _senpai's_ insides, deep and never-ending darkness. He kept whisking until it fully combined and with a rubber spatula, spread it across a baking-paper-lined tray. The lumpy mixture ate up the whiteness of the baking-paper, exactly the same way the Director's huge calligraphy brush would. Subaru grinned manically. When he was finished, he placed the tray of black tapioca into the awaiting oven. It was going to take an hour or so to fully puff up into crunchy and bubbly crisps. That was fine. It was going to be the garnish anyway.

' _Just you wait Mitsunaga, you're gonna wish you came up with my version of your dish to begin with'._

 _._

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* * *

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 _._

' _Okay, the_ _ **apple smoked seabream**_ _is done and dusted'._

He left the apple smoked seabream to infuse with the ginger and _sake_ over the simmering saucepan.

The world was reduced to the sounds of the ocean and waves riding against the calm and languid woodwinds and the soft and joyful plucking of the strings from _**Track 63**_. It was absolutely magical how human orchestral instruments could interpret, the sounds of nature. When the listener opened their mind and imaginations, they could be transported far away. The gentle but strong brass lifted the notes in a slow-building _crescendo_ to a faraway reach somewhere in the crevices of his tingling heart. The sea-faring nature of the piece jolted him into yet another adventure with the background militaristic march of the upbeat snare drums to hurry him along onto the ship for a bright and sunny sea adventure for unknown lands. The excitement bubbled in him as he revelled in the _waltz tempo_ of this aquatic piece.

Yozora smiled. He'd said everything he needed to say to Mimasaka. He didn't spare his opponent another thought as he moved onto the next step. He grabbed his bottle of _mannitol_. He'd come across this nifty ingredient last year when he was training in his desserts with Tsurugi- _senpai. Mannitol_ was sugar-alcohol and it was really good with specific things in desserts, specific things like making his _**Pearl.**_ The Pearl was going to be the visual centrepiece for his multi-sensory seafood dish.

He carefully poured the clear and thick sugar-alcohol into the heated saucepan, stirring it smoothly and consistently with a metal spoon until it melted completely. He could feel the searing exothermic reaction against his hand as he continuously stirred. With extreme precision and fast hands, Yozora poured the super-hot liquid into one half of his specially-made 'pearl mould', about the size of a golf-ball. He closed the mould with the other half, making sure it lined up perfectly. One hand griped the mould tightly so that it didn't budge or slip and he twisted and turned it. His wrists rotated in full circular motions at every angle it possibly could, and his elbows danced and jutted in and out as Yozora worked to make the mannitol coat the inside of the mould. When _forty bars_ finished and Yozora was satisfied that it hardened enough, he carefully and quickly popped open the mould after a few light jostles. His hand-eye coordination was really important here because there couldn't be any imperfection for his pearl. Yozora knitted his brows and bit his tongue at the side as he focused to remove his creation. It was still piping hot, but with a quick inspection, he was relieved to see that it was a perfect smooth sphere. Its translucent glow was breath-taking. He placed his complete pearl into a container and left it aside to cool.

 _'Tsurugi-senpai would be proud'._

He let the music talk to him once more. The woodwinds took a backseat as the strings and brass emerged to the forefront in an impeccable transition for a grandiose _fortissimo_ from the build-up before dropping to a long _rest_ , leaving Yozora hanging. Then, the bubbling and shyness of the flute returned like a song bird visiting the ocean, far from home. This piece taught him how to flow and how to be peaceful by taking him to the shoreline of the clean and solitary beach. The _leitmotif_ of the piece swirled and swayed with oncoming frothy waves of the crystal blue surf.

' _Next is the_ _ **meyer lemon marmalade** '._

He figured his seafood dish needed something sweet, tangy and tart to add to the adventure. A citrus would do the trick for the _pizzicato_ notes. He peeled meyer lemon zests from his large plump lemons into strips, removing any piths and chopping it at light speed. He scraped them all up by the flat of his blade and slid all the zesty strips off of it into the saucepan with a quick swipe of his fingers. The perfumed citrus was intoxicating and he was sorry to mute it by covering it with water and boiled it up. He strained it and blanched it a few more times. Once he was done, he placed the blanched zests into another saucepan of sugar and glucose and then chopped one of the lemons into small juicy segments and joined it with the zests in there. He halved the other meyer lemon and squeezed it for all it was worth of its juice, careful to catch the pips. Yozora adjusted the heat and simmered it slowly and surely with sharp blue eyes for any signs of deepening hues as it reduced and thickened luxuriously into the optimum marmalade-like texture. Once it was almost like honey, he took it off the heat, transferred it into a bowl and left it aside.

 _'He should feel lucky that the recipe is only five pages. Mine is eight'._

Yozora afforded a quick glance to his opponent and smiled to himself.

 _'You're in MY house now'._

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* * *

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"Go, Yo-kun! Banish him to the _Shadow Realm!"_.

Erina rolled her eyes in disdain. Ginsekai raised his fist into the air and bounced on the balls of his feet like a child as he cheered his friend. She ignored him and retreated into her thoughts once more.

' _Mimasaka's dish is French'._

She could tell by the lobster stock.

Erina loosened herself from her crossed arms and tried not to rub them. It felt inexplicably strange to be sharing the Elite Ten viewing box with a bunch of plebians. It was akin to being trapped in a smelly petting zoo, a memory she wasn't fond of in her childhood with Alice. She was the one who had invited them in though, so she really couldn't complain and that made her more irritated. It was difficult to see what Mitsuanga was doing because his back was facing them and unfortunately, the stadium television failed to capture how the President of _The Guild_ was cooking his centrepiece main. That cameraman needs to be fired. Therefore Erina had little choice but to watch Mimasaka who was a lot more visible.

Mimasaka had been working on a corn puree and had been dressing squid, while Yozora had been creating some sort of sauce and was sculpting something in a mould. It appeared to be a ball made of confection, but it had been too late to identify what it was when the camera had already panned away. From what she knew so far, both of their dishes were highly technical.

"Isn't Mimasaka well known for using the same ingredients and making the same dishes as his opponents'?", asked Aldini-kun.

"Yeah, that's right", said Yukihira. "But those two have totally different ingredients from each other and Mimasaka was just as caught off-guard as everyone else from the looks of it".

"Mitsunaga-kun had him all flustered and on the defense from the get go. Serves him right! It was about time he engaged in a proper _duello,_ fair and square!", declared Aldini-kun.

Erina silently agreed but it wasn't like she would voice it for their benefit. She wouldn't be caught dead sharing the same opinions as theirs! She didn't so much as agree on it never being fair and square, because studying the competition was called _'doing one's homework'_ and there was _technically_ nothing wrong with it. Although being technically correct was the best kind of correct, she still didn't appreciate underhandedness in anyway. It was a really fine line when it came to Mimasaka. She did agree that for once, Mimasaka should compete using his full merit and own culinary skills, rather than riding on the backs of his opponent's past successes and absorbing it to be his own. Erina ran her tongue over her teeth and rolled her shoulders to get her long strands out of the way. Erina rolled her amethyst eyes at them and continued to focus on the match. She had a report to write and she also had to know how this would turn out.

' _And whether or not I'll be seeing Mitsunaga tomorrow'._

She turned away to hide her embarrassing blush from the others.

"Hmm… how _did_ he manage to give him the slip?". Yukihira asked curiously. "Ginsekai? You know anything about that?".

The maverick chef nodded his head to the blonde and skittish boy between them. Erina turned as well, also wanting to know. The entire time, the lot of them had been standing at the window watching on as the competition pushed forward. The Nakiri heiress had been suspended in disbelief when the two contenders had revealed their completely different sets of ingredients. With her shock, came a small sense of relief that Mitsunaga wasn't ensnared into the same traps as those other opponents of Mimasaka. The fact that his Perfect Trace was revealed to be not that perfect had visibly angered Eizan- _senpai's_ lackey and the wound to his pride was obvious from the way he glowered at Mitsunaga, as if he too couldn't believe he'd been duped somehow. The adrenaline and suspense from the audience was palpable and she concluded that there would be a lot more than just _shokugeki_ stakes riding on this match. However the fact that Mitsunaga was somehow one step ahead of Mimasaka without him knowing was something Erina couldn't let slide.

She narrowed her heated eyes at Ginsekai who was laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head like a dolt. His form shrunk further and further in his futile attempts to escape Yukihira's, Aldini-kun's and her own expectant gaze.

"U-Umm… about that, we have a _—_ ".

"Hold that thought!", yelled Yukihira. "Is that what I think it is?!".

Everyone was jarred out of their thoughts and instantly was all hands on deck back to watching the math.

"It's a _**sea urchin**_!" shouted Aldini-kun.

Erina widened her eyes at the somewhat threatening looking critters, once called _'sea-hedgehogs'_ but now called _'the ocean's butter'._ The sea urchin probably had one of the most powerful ocean flavours of any seafood. It possessed an _'oomph'_ that couldn't really be described, only experienced. The sea urchin was famous for its delightfully creamy texture and delicate sweetness, making it a world class delicacy and one of the more unexpected foods to come from Japan. Erina had cooked with it many times as it was an ingredient always available to her. She knew how versatile the sea urchin could be. Mimasaka's gloved hand handled the black sea animal whilst his other gripped strong scissors and he dug it into the tops of the shell and snipped away.

One had to practice cracking sea urchins many times before successfully removing the roe from its dangerous and spiny encasing. When opening sea urchins, the chef had to take as much time as possible, and be super delicate because with one wrong move, the chef could accidentally split the plump and silky-orange roe and ruin its beautiful aesthetics. With Mimasaka's brutish hands, he would be capable of gouging everything out.

Mimasaka scooped out five big orange morsels of roe and placed it in a small bowl that sat on electronic scales. He then thoroughly cleaned the insides of the urchin shell under running water with a cloth, scooping out the slimy dark green and brown membranes and guts. He did this to four more urchins.

' _He's keeping all the shells… could it be part of the presentation?'._

Whilst the boys were flabbergasted and glued to the window, Erina continued to silently observe and analyse, putting more distance between her and the group of unsightly commoners. Mimasaka pushed his measured-out urchin roe through a sieve and they plopped into the bowl as a smooth paste. Then he added creamy white butter to it and whisked it vigorously without breaking a sweat. It became a deep and dark yellow, perfectly melded together to become one. It was a rich colour for just sea urchin roe and butter. He put it into the mini-fridge.

Ah. He'd just made _**sea urchin butter.**_

Next Mimasaka prepared some ring moulds, about the same diameter as a standard mug. He then pulled out three layers of cling wrap and sliced out five squares from it. He covered each mould, securing them with tight elastic bands and placed them onto an oven tray and pushed it to the side. He danced away from his station and retrieved the corn puree from earlier and whisked it with cream into a bowl. Like the delicate hands of a maiden, as absurd as the vision was, he cracked and added in some whole eggs and egg yolks. His nimble and quick chunky fingers had slid the yolk from shell-to-shell to rid of the whites with such delicacy and gentleness that even Erina was impressed by the feat for such cumbersome, large hands. Based on the ingredients alone, Erina deduced that he was making _**corn custard**_. Finally, he poured his yellow mixture into the moulds until they filled only partway, like a cake. He poured water into the tray and it flooded up to half way as well. Lastly, he covered the whole thing with foil and placed it into the hot oven.

Erina rubbed her chin. Almost half of the time had elapsed and so far she felt that Mimasaka wasn't getting into the main part of the recipe yet. He'd done more prep-work than he did cooking. He'd made a _**lobster stock**_ _,_ he was in the process of making _**black**_ _ **tapioca crisps**_ , prepared the squid which was all rolled up and in the freezer, and _**corn custard**_ _._

Mimasaka cooked like he _owned_ it. It didn't change the fact that he always used his opponent's recipe. So Erina didn't forget that this sea urchin dish was originally Mitsunaga's creation.

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* * *

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"Far out".

Call him simple-minded but Souma was easily distracted when he saw something cool and exciting in cooking. He'd been mesmerised by Mimasaka cutting open and gutting the sea urchin. It was a seafood ingredient that had a special place in Japan. He'd never handled an actual spikey sea urchin before because _Oyaji_ was a tight-arse, and _Yukihira Diner's_ menu would feature it as a seasonal specialty like _uni-sushi_ or _wafu pasta_. Apparently, that stuff was expensive. _Oyaji_ always bought them already prepared and it came in special wooden boxes all the way from _Hokkaidou!_ Souma salivated the whole time. He remembered the addictive and mild, creamy, briny pleasures of the alien looking sea animal

Enough about Mimasaka, Souma wanted to see what Mitsunaga was up to. A quick look around the gamer-chef's kitchen let the diner chef know what he'd just finished for his dish. It was tricky to see because he faced the other way, but Souma did his best. Both of their dishes were really intriguing and full of mystery, but if he had to pick one dish that was the most exciting and the most complex-looking, he had to pick Mitsunaga's. He'd been cooking _**mussels**_ and created some sort of _**bonito dashi.**_ Once again, he was reminded of Alice Nakiri with all her techno-whizz-gizmo that made her cooking look like lab-experiment. Souma was lost on half of the ingredients Mitsunaga was using. He'd chucked in some other weird ingredients that looked like vinegar, goo and white powder into the _bonito dashi_ …

…poured it onto a tray and stuck it in the fridge!

That… was some weird method for _dashi_ unless it wasn't going to be _dashi_ in the end. He'd also pulled some weird shit that looked similar to Alice Nakiri such as making that little ball. Souma had never thought if Mitsunaga had a cooking forte that was strictly culinary. It had always been heavily intertwined in videogame music. From what he knew everyone had an actual cuisine or food item specialty.

What culinary area did Mitsunaga specialise in?

' _Then again, what's mine?'._

Oh boy. He'd never thought that thinking about Mitsunaga would get him to be philosophical with himself. He only made diner or _'family-home-style'_ meals, so he guessed he was an all-rounder. Was Mitsunaga possibly an all-rounder too? Videogame music covered _all_ genres after all… he regretted not being upfront and asking him flat-out. Souma cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. One thing that he could discern that was unique to Mitsunaga, was his exceptional and uncanny knife skills. It was like watching someone naturally wield a knight's sword, switching to a rapier, then daggers, then a machete. He'd seen it before and was always curious with how he gripped his knife and how he constantly switched between hands without missing a beat. He must be right _and_ left handed.

Right now, Mitsunaga was grilling cucumber halves on the _hibachi_ grill. Grilling cucumber sounded like something Souma would do when most people turned their nose up at it. While _The Guild_ President had that going nicely, he started taking care of another sea creature.

' _It looks too big to be a squid. Is that_ _ **cuttlefish**_ _?'._

Indeed it was! Mitsunaga sliced it open with one quick flick of his wrist. He removed the beak and tentacles and cleaned it. He didn't need to slice it further and could already flatten it out and placed it on the _hibachi_ grill along with the grilling cucumbers. Souma watched mystified as the long green vegetables blackened all over. When Mitsunaga carefully turned it around on the grill, it had softened significantly, but still remained perfectly intact. The cuttlefish started to turn opaque and curl up. The grill marks charred the skin beautifully and Souma wished he was down there sniffing the smokey cephalopod just like he'd done a million times whenever he was grilling squid tentacles.

Mitsunaga removed the cuttlefish and dropped it onto the chopping board. Then he carefully lifted the soft, grilled cucumbers off of the grill and put it into a blender!

' _I literally have no idea where he's going with this'._

Souma pursed his lips and squinted his eyes as if narrowing them would make him see better. The dark-haired chef blitz the grilled cucumbers until it became all mush. The green stained the sides of the blender with specks of the charcoal skin dotted through. He lifted the lid and poured in a generous amount of oil and _white soy sauce_ and blitz it some more. The cucumber pulp became liquidy and smooth as Souma could see it stick less to the sides. Mitsunaga pulled out a sieve, popped open the lid and poured his mixture through the fine mesh and straight into a glass bowl. He covered it up and placed it in the mini-fridge.

Souma didn't know what to bookmark this step, except to call it _**charred cucumber oil.**_

Mitsunaga returned to the cuttlefish that had been cooling on the chopping board. He rapidly sliced the cuttlefish into ribbons with quick and lethal strokes. Each piece was exactly measured purely by his sharp and intense blue eyes. He placed them into the bowl as well and placed it in the fridge. How many things did Mitsunaga have shoved into the fridge by now?

His entire kitchen seemed clear, now that everything he'd made was organised out to the side or in the fridge. Souma enjoyed the improved view. Mitsunaga lit up the stove with a small oil-filled saucepan sitting over the flame. Mitsunaga pulled out a bag of _black rice_ from his esky and poured some of it into a _chinois_ which Souma learnt was a conical sieve from Chef Chapelle's practicum. He lowered it slowly into the oil, until it was enough to cover the _black rice._ It didn't take long for it to pop, snap and crackle into rice puffs. He removed it quickly from the oil and onto a paper towel to drain. Then he picked up the paper towel and poured it into a food processor. He blitzed it up until it became a course powder. While Mitsuanga was keeping an eye on the pulses, his other hand reached inside the esky and pulled out another bag without looking.

' _Ah! It's houjicha'._

Mitsunaga ripped the bag open and poured some of it into the processor too until it became a fine powder. Next, he transferred it into another bowl and Souma guessed Mitsunaga wasn't done yet. He added another fine white powder and salt to it. All these powders were coming out of bottles that looked like they belonged on a pharmacy shelf… When it was all done, Mitsunaga poured it in an air-tight container and pushed it to the side as well.

' _Wait… it kind of looks like… beach sand?'._

Souma felt the pieces coming together. Oh! Mitsuanga was going for a scenic presentation for his seafood dish. He turned around and opened his mouth to ask Ginsekai if his theories and assumptions were correct but his words halted on the tip of his tongue. The blonde boy was practically plastered to the pane. His big sky-blue eyes were purely trained on his best friend as he watched with pure admiration and awe shining through his glistening orbs. He looked like he was in his own little world and silently cheering on for his best friend.

Souma narrowed his eyes…

He remembered something…

* * *

 _._

 _"Hey, it's me…_ _… … …_ _yeah, I know it's been a while…_ _… … …_ _Good on you, glad to hear you're doing well…_ _… … …_ _Listen, we've got a_ _ **spyware**_ _situation here and we need some_ _ **real-time protection**_ _…_ _… … …_ _Hmmm…_ _… … …_ _up until the end of this month…_ _… … …_ _Mimasaka Subaru. He's in the same grade as Yo-kun and I…_ _… … …_ _Yep, that's right, but Yo-kun is the main target…_ _… … …_ _Then, what do you want in return?…_ _… … …_ _That's expensive…_ _… … …_ _alright, alright! You don't have to yell!_ _ **Quest**_ _confirmed_ _. We'll deliver it to you once we have it. See ya"._

 _._

* * *

 _'Oh yeah'._

Since that time, Souma had never played the conversation again in his head. But now… something about it screamed suspicious. Even the way Ginsekai's voice had shifted while on the phone was _now_ kind of alarming. Who'd he been talking too? And why'd he been _talking_ _about_ Mimasaka and Mitsunaga? Souma regretted not asking about it too, despite it being rude to eavesdrop in the first place.

' _Ginsekai was talking to someone about a quest that was going to involve Mimasaka and Mitsunaga. Something about spyware and anti-virus protection?'_

Souma had learnt from the beginning that Ginsekai's gaming jargon was more often metaphorical than literal.

Was an _NPC_ somehow involved in the match?

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* * *

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" _Twenty Minutes to go!"._

' _Dio mio…'._

Takumi thought this was definitely a flight of stairs up from Mitsunaga-kun's performance in the match with Mito Ikumi. He couldn't believe what he was seeing as the gamer chef powered through a multitude of steps and elements that he'd never dreamed of seeing in a short two and half hour match. He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. Mimasaka was putting up a strong fight too.

While Mitsunaga had been grilling the cucumbers and cuttlefish, Mimasaka had been working on his _**lobster tail, mussels**_ and a _**sea urchin sauce.**_ The huge chef had an interesting method in cooking his lobster. He had emulsified butter into boiling first, before lowering the plump and succulent tail into. Takumi could taste the buttery goodness as Mimasaka had turned and basted the until it was cooked perfectly, and then had cut it up into small pieces. The mussels had been cooked with garlic and shallots and then stewed in high quality white wine and thyme. Then he had strained and kept the mussel liquids and de-shelled the mussels. It was clear that Mimasaka's main seafood theme was _ricci di mare -_ sea urchin - when he yet again made another sea urchin element. He'd made his sauce using the mussel cooking liquid, prepared fish, white wine vinegar stock and the sea urchin butter from earlier. He was definitely going to use the clean sea urchin shells as some sort of bowl. Takumi had worked with sea urchins before in _Trattoria Aldini._ They were really smelly, ugly and slimy on the inside but their roe were to die for _._ In the Aldini household, they'd open the urchin, retain the shell, clean out the guts and replace the urchin lobes back into the shell. Italians have been serving them like this since forever, with a lemon cheek and fresh bread. Simple, but the flavours were divine.

Right now, Mimasaka was shucking oysters and opening clams. When he was done, he oiled up another pan and Takumi blanched at the thought of yet another element! He tossed in some dark greens and Takumi didn't recognise it as any leafy vegetable. He flicked his eyes to the television and widened his eyes.

' _ **Sea spray!'.**_

It wasn't just any seaweed that came from Japan, it was something imported, possibly from the Mediterranean as Takumi could tell apart the different edible seaweed types in _Italia_ and how they were different to Japan's. Mimasaka gently fried it until it was just wilted. He took it out and let it drain on a paper towel.

Mimasaka pulled out another packet from the esky and Takumi recognised it as rock salt. He poured half the bag into a food-processor with some water and churned it up. He pulled out five wide rimmed plates, clean and pure white. He placed a cookie cutter in each plate and carefully spooned the salt from the food processor into it. When Mimasaka removed the mould, the salt stayed in place.

' _He's going to place the sea urchin shells on top of the_ _ **bed of salt**_ _to give it height'._

Takumi took a mental step back from the match. He'd been watching both Mimasaka and Mitsunaga-kun with rapt attention for the past two hours. The people he came with were all silent and mesmirised, including Yukihira who was not being annoying for once. His recent loss still stang in the back of his mind, but he couldn't imagine losing to a worthier opponent than Yukihira Souma. Takumi let that spur him on to challenge him again in the future! He digressed… Although Mimasaka could copy Mitsunaga-kun's knife skills with phenomenal precision, there was something that he lacked. Takumi tried to put his finger on it and the closest thing he could think of was… drive. _Si,_ that was it. Mitsuanga-kun's drive was intoxicating and made it almost impossible for one to look away. It was his affinity to music, and his desire to tell a story through his dish for his customer and make their experience unique and memorable that guided those experienced hands in the kitchen. Takumi saw that it reflected in the care and respect he showed his ingredients, the same as how a _pianist classico_ would handle their instrument with utmost respect, privilege and honour. Everything he touched had _soul._

He looked to Nakiri Erina who was standing in an entirely different plane from the rest of them as her eyes were only on Mitsunaga-kun. Her eyes glittered like starlight and her lips were parted and pink as she watched.

' _Is this what draws Nakiri-san to him?'._

He couldn't think of any other reason that was strong enough…

Takumi blushed furiously. _Non, non, non._ It was none of his business and he wasn't going to get into it. Blast Yukihira that _bastardo_ for telling him about their relationship and dragging him into needless drama! When Mitsunaga-kun propositioned Nakiri-san for a date two hours ago he felt an impending doom. He'd been right. Nakiri Erina had turned to him with abject horror in her sharp and accusing violet eyes. The contenders' waiting room was too cramped to get away. He didn't know what Yukihira or Ginsekai-kun did, but he had been petrified and rooted to the spot! He could do nothing but stare at the closest thing which was an impressionist painting and pretended he wasn't there in the room, therefore didn't hear anything that wasn't to do with him. Takumi shook his head, trying to get rid of the blush and returned to his musings.

On the other hand, Mimasaka might as well spat on all of the ingredients. He didn't care for the actual dish itself and it showed. Obsessed with winning and humiliating his opponents had bred a cruelty in the way he approached his dish. The methods and techniques would ensure the optimum flavour for Mimasaka, but Takumi knew there would always be hollowness _._

"The hell?!".

Takumi spun around and stared wide eyed at Yukihira. _Merde_! His outburst scared him. Yukihira pressed his forehead to the window, leaving a small patch of fog from where his breath was caressing against the glass. Takumi screwed his blonde brows together.

"What is it?", he asked.

"Look at what Mitsunaga's holding".

Takumi, Nakiri-san and Ginsekai-kun drew even closer and craned their necks towards kitchen stadium. Once again the cameraman failed to capture what Mitsunaga-kun was doing at a seemingly critical moment. Takumi turned his head this way and that… until he saw _it._

 _He was holding a power drill!_

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* * *

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' _If it breaks, I'm done for'._

He knew people were going to talk about this next bit after he worked on the _**golden kelp**_ and _**seaweed.**_

Yozora held up his hand-held power hobby drill and turned it on. It felt kind of like an oversized vape-pen. He didn't hear the whirs at all as he was still whisked away by _**Track 63.**_ He could eat the air and drink the music, so heady was the fragrance of the marmalade, mussels and the apple smoked sea-bream and the melody of the flute. Yozora loved the tone of the strings and brass, because it reminded him of the sunrise and waking up after a sweet dream. When he heard the plucking of the violins, he remembered playing hide'n'seek as a little boy around the small caves with his mother at the beach.

The music wasn't strong enough to lessen the pressure he had on his shoulders.

Yozora held the hardened, hollow pearl in his hand and let it carefully kiss the top of the rapidly spinning drill bit. He felt the vibrations travel up his wrist as a he bored a tiny hole into the mannitol shell. He'd made it as thin as possible without compromising the integrity of the structure so it was always nerve wracking when he practiced drilling into it. It took about a minute of patience to not collapse the pearl in, so Yozora held his breath and steadied his hands. letting his heart do the talking. There. The small hole was perfect. He ran the side of the drill against the surface he deemed not smooth enough before he was wholly satisfied.

' _My_ _ **miso-pinenut ice cream**_ _will go in there'._

Yozora packed away the little power tool and put the newly drilled pearl back into its container. Ice-cream now, and then assembly. Yozora started his dry caramel, then he added _shiromiso_ and whisked it to caramelise the _miso_ too. He made sure that the ice cream base was dark enough to get that slight bitter note to highlight the ice cream. Then he added the milk and continued whisking over the heat. When he was done, he grabbed a new food processor and poured his _miso_ -caramel into it along with his pinenuts. He blitzed it until it was silky smooth, then he strained it through fine strainer into a bowl. It smelt terrific. He put it over an ice bath until it cooled to the right temperature.

While he waited for that, he cleared the rest of his kitchen station and pulled out his plates. Five plates and five dishes to go on top of them. The dishes had a marbling texture at the bottom. He ordered it from _Tootsuki's_ inventory to emulate the refracting light that often penetrated the shallow beach.

He thought of what Mimasaka would have achieved by now.

' _Is he up to the_ _ **squid tagliatelle**_ _yet?'._

Yozora didn't bother looking, but rather counted how many loops of his track had come and gone, and did the math. He figured out his answer. It was _his_ recipe after all.

Once the ice-cream base was cool, he placed some of it back into the food processor and mixed in some skim milk powder. He blitzed it up until the exothermic reaction caused the temperature to increase to just the right level, which was about eighty percent of the present loop of the track. He began to add the _maltodextrin_ , salt and the _Cremadon_ stabiliser and continued processing it until the temperature increased a lot more. Finally done, he transferred the mixture into the bowl and placed it over the ice bath again, letting it stand as he worked it with the stick blender, until it was cold and silky smooth. He transferred it yet again into a stand mixer with paddle attachment, not missing any beats as the _tempo_ remained steady. He dug underneath the bench and took out his perspex glasses and pulled out his large canister of liquid nitrogen.

' _Hello my old friend'._

He loved the way the wisps of cooled air solidified into its own smoke and poured over everything like an ethereal waterfall. It just looked so magical. He ladled the super-cooling liquid bit by bit until the ice cream was set and smooth. Finally, he took the paddle and spooned the miso-pinenut ice-cream into a small piping bag. It filled up nicely and was yielding and cold in his hands. He held up the pearl carefully in the other hand and inserted just the tip into the tight opening. Yozora licked his lips and exhaled hotly, not letting anything escape his eyes and then held his breath. His hand gently pumped his mixture in, starting off slow and then faster as he grew more comfortable with the size and pace. He felt the cold transfer into the pearl as it filled every crevice. With one last push the pearl was filled to the brim and he released his breath harshly. Some of the milky liquid dribbled out of the weeping opening, shy of over-filling. Better to be overflowing than to be un-sated, he figured. He repeated for the other four pearls, pumping and pumping until they were all equally full with the milkiness.

Yozora let the relief wash over him that the main visual attraction for his seafood dish was almost finished.

" _Ten minutes to go!"._

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* * *

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Subaru was almost there. He'd already put the corn custard into the bottom of each of the sea urchin shell which sat majestically on top of the sea salt bed. He put the sea urchin sauce into the saucepan and re-heated it. He could see all the spines around it as it lifted from the dish. At the same time, he blitzed it with a hand blender until it foamed up into a soft yellowish cloud that reminded him of meringue _._ When that was all done, he went to retrieve his rolled up frozen squid and was now in the processes of slicing it ever so thinly. The biggest thing when handling calamari was to be gentle. It had to be cut properly and the flesh remain clean and white. This was going to be his _**squid tagliatelle.**_ Then he heated up a new pan and fried the strips of pasta-squid for a short spell until it was perfect. He took them off the heat and drained it on some paper towels.

' _Now to put it all together'._

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* * *

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' _All this time'._

Erina stared at Mitsunaga in awe, wondering how one so strange and anomalous could achieve this level of talent. He moved with feeling on that stadium, pouring forth an outburst of emotions through his executions, not only moving his hands, but moving the audience that watched him with pure amazement. The gasps and chatters of the students and the emcee calling the time seemed dismal. It was truly breath-taking.

Embers warmed her lower belly.

Erina pulled her lips in and nibbled, feeling that heat from her core spread to her face. His fingers… they looked so beautiful when they firmly grasped the sagging piping bag and squeezed the ice-cream into the small pearl with controlled contractions. She wondered if he paid attention to his piping the same way he paid attention to her.

She gulped.

Mitsunaga was plating up now. He only had ten minutes left, so he was racing against time to the absolute final second now. Everything had to be done with exact timing so as to not waste a single second. He moved like a machine, always with purpose. He simmered some water and then heated up the cocoa butter and silver powder that was in a different saucepan. He mixed it until it was all melted and put it to the side again. With a small spoon, he spread a deep and bright red paste onto the serving plate. Then he carefully arranged his _**mussels**_ which had a quick visit to the blast chiller before left in the fridge, and _**oysters.**_ He went over to the first thing he conquered, the _**apple smoked sea bream**_ and dipped it into the _sake_ and ginger infusion he had reserved and placed it near the shellfish. Mitsunaga's posture was terribly hunched as he fixated on his dish. He pulled the _**cuttlefish**_ strips towards him and dipped them into the _**charred cucumber oil**_ coating it in a vibrant green. He spread it closely to the sea bream like an artist working out the spacing. He took out his tray of what Erina realised was _**bonito fluid gel**_ and filled it in little pipes and piped it in four random places for each plate. So far, everything was closely clumped into the middle of the marbled serving dish. Mitsunaga brought over the saucepan of _**meyer lemon marmalade**_ and spooned small dollops of it with the seafood. For each plate, he added three teaspoons of the _**'sand'**_ he had created, carefully sprinkling them shallowly in precise places, but because he hunched so much, she guessed he was still centring everything in the middle.

Then he piped the _**mussel foam**_ he'd made earlier and created a single thick wavy line that curved the dip of the bowl, around the mound of his seafood elements. It had wonderful stiff peaks, holding its shape. Then he pulled out a jar and spooned something shockingly deep blue on top of the oysters. The only thing that looked like caviar and was _that_ blue was _**wild scampi caviar.**_ He procured his pair of culinary tweezers from his tweezer pocket on his other sleeve and carefully arranged the _**fried golden kelp**_ and the other types of seaweeds he'd prepared onto the larger dish to create a quickly forming and stunning beach scene!

Mitsunaga lifted the five marble-swirled dishes and put it over the larger seaweed covered white serving plates. He donned gloves and took out a canister that was different from the liquid nitrogen and dug his gloved hands into and pulled out… _dry ice pellets!_ Soft puffs of dry ice air hovered around, but didn't disperse far as it wasn't as volatile as liquid nitrogen. He spread it over the seaweed on the bottom layer. Mitsunaga went back to the _**pearl**_. He took it out of the freezer and he evenly glazed it with the shining silver cocoa butter with skilled twists of his wrist, using a small skewer he had earlier inserted into the hole. He held the skewer in the air for a couple of seconds, letting the glaze set before he set each lustrous pearl onto the plate.

' _He's almost done. There's one… two… three… four… fi—_

Wait, why was he hesitating? Mitsunaga froze on the spot, his pearl just about to touch the specially made alcove for it on the fifth and final plate, that would allow it to shine its brightest and stand out from the dish whilst looking natural! Erina frowned heavily, suddenly growing very frustrated at him. Then when she looked further, she could see him staring straight at Mimasaka, with almost a goading sheen in those sharp eyes. Mimasaka was finishing up his garnish for his sea urchin dish. This was the first time he'd even acknowledge Mimasaka since the start of the match. What was he doing? He only had seconds left!

It hit her.

' _He… He wants Mimasaka to finish first!'._

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* * *

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" _First to finish is Mimasaka Subaru! Please present your dish!"._

Subaru rose to his full height, feeling utterly proud of his newly and improved sea urchin dish. The fact that it was different to what Mitsunaga was cooking still irked him, but he was confident he would win anyway. He stretched his tight and aching muscles and grinned widely at the audience and the judging panel who stared back at him impassively. He turned around and saw Mitsunaga just stepping back from his dish. Heh… he had some fancy smoke for presentation, did he? Well Subaru was going to beat him purely with taste. He gathered his beautiful sea urchin dishes and brought it over to the judges.

"This looks… absolutely stunning Mimasaka-kun. It's a magical looking dish!", gasped Chef Inui.

He applauded the judges for their professionalism. He could tell that he rubbed them up the wrong way. The other judges nodded eagerly too, their tongues tied by how blown away they were with his dish.

"I see this beautiful urchin sitting on the plate and I'm not sure what's inside it and yet, _kami-sama_ it's so amazing and I really want to know what's waiting for me in there!", smiled Chef Kikuchi.

"Tell us about it, Mimasaka-kun", said Chef Doujima.

"Sure. The idea of the dish is sea urchin, from the ingredients down to the presentation. Starting with the garnish at the top, we have here _**tapioca with squid ink crisps**_ which I've deep fried them until they puffed. This is _**sea urchin foam**_ , some _**sea** **urchin roe**_ , unpasteurised _**ocean trout roe**_ and _ **fried sea-spray**_. Inside the sea urchins are poached _**mussels**_ and _ **clams**_ and some more sea urchin roe. At the bottom of the shell is my _**squid tagliatelle**_ and _**corn custard**_ with _ **butter lobster tail**_. Combining them all together is the _**sea urchin sauce**_ ".

The judges nodded, thoroughly impressed with his dish.

"Sea urchin", hummed Chef Mizuhara. "This is a fine dish. We are lucky in Japan to have access to this great treasure. This is a work of art. Every art piece needs a name. Does it have one?".

Mimasaka was suddenly stumped. He'd never thought of coming up with a new name for the dish. He had been concentrating on stalking and investigating Mitsunaga, anticipating his every move, mimicry and the components that it didn't cross his mind. But he had to answer the judges quickly as his falter would surely be noticed. Only one name popped up in his head… and it was the exact same words that was scribbled at the top of the page amongst the _musical notation_ that littered the recipe copy…

" _ **J-Jewel of the Sea** …"._

He could feel Mitsuanga's probing blue eyes and teasing grin behind his head.

"A fitting name. Now let us taste", said Chef Doujima.

Mimasaka watched as the judges picked through the garnishes and sampled each one. Their faces transformed into pure ecstasy and they hurriedly dug into the sea urchin shell. Ropes of sauce and corn custard covered squid strips burst out of it and they slurped it up with pure abandon. The sauce dotted the white dish before them, but they didn't care. They were entangled in the thick chains of his flavours and textures. Mimasaka grinned. They ate as if possessed by the sea-creature sitting in front of them. Totally like an alien-invasion movie.

"It's so delicious, well cooked and well balanced", started Chef Doujima.

"It's amazing, It's like the nicest seafood flavour of anything I've ever eaten. It's absolu— Don't look at me like that Sonoka- _senpai!_ I can appreciate good food no matter how much I hate the guy, okay?!".

The sudden burst of a boiling tantrum was just what Subaru counted on. He relished in the fact that he could twist a chef who hated him into admitted that his food was delicious and that she had to publically announce it. The small Chef Tsunozaki sat and glowered with an intense red on her cheeks as she seethed at the other chef that reminded of the little blue-headed girl from Polar Star Dorm. Subaru puffed his chest out with pride, loving how the chef's struggled with themselves over how gorgeous his dish was in looks, taste and flavours.

"Everything is excellently poached and the lobster is great. These generous servings of sea urchin roe is a very good start", continued Chef Doujima.

"The… The _tagliatelle_ of the squid not being pasta at all was a pleasant twist" said Chef Mizuhara, placing his utensils on the plate. "It looks amazing, just like pasta. Putting it in the freezer was an amazing trick so that you could thinly slice it with ease. It's perfectly cooked, not too elastic so that it's chewy or rubbery".

"I love cooking with squid", chimed in Chef Inui. "I think it's a wonderful protein and I also think turning it into a _tagliatelle_ is a great idea. I'm glad you've found a way to cut it so thinly, because if it had been thick, it would be too clunky. Yours is so tender".

Subaru puffed out his chest and nodded.

"The cooking of the lobster was excellent", said Chef Kikuchi. "You don't want the lobster to be too cooked and yours is still translucent which was good. The lobster, mussel, oysters being in here are all the great things of the sea!".

"I can't get enough of the corn custard and lobster at the bottom. The lobster stock you used made an excellent foundation for your corn custard. Being that the corn custard was one of the main elements of the dish, you made sure the stock was just right, otherwise the custard wouldn't taste right at the end", Chef Doujima laced his fingers together. "Because the dish is warm, the custard starts to melt into the sauce. I think that's the best part. It adds a different dimension and different flavour".

"Hmm I agree. I really love the sweetness of the sea urchin sauce", added chef Kikuchi. "It's not too over powering and really compliments it all, really beautiful and really well balanced".

"Yes. Sauce is a really huge part of French cuisine… don't even start, Hinako- _senpai_ ". Chef Mizuhara cut herself off at the sudden open of Chef Inui's mouth, who deflated in response. "And this dish is undeniably French. They definitely respect their sauces a lot. Getting the sauce wrong is a death sentence which you have avoided marvelously".

"Oh Mizuhara-chan, I wasn't going to say anything!".

"Yes you were! You were going to mention that _bastard's_ name. Did you forget that he snitched on us for the underground _shoku—"._

"Anyway!" Chef Doujima cleared his throat, silencing the pair. "The tapioca crisps were a nice touch. It looks good as a garnish and adds some fun textures".

"Hmm… it looks like caviar caught in an oil slick in a good way. It's really black", said Chef Mizuhara, regaining her composure. "I really like the garnishes as well. The sea spray looks gorgeous and I feel the whole dish is very three dimensional".

"The thing that really stands out is the sea urchin sauce. It ties it all together, bags of flavour. The sauce is like a stew at the end. It's really delicate", said Chef Tsunozaki.

"Now, I feel that the _tongues_ of the sea urchin roe is what _this_ is", said Chef Inui.

"But to me, the dish is about three things". Chef Doujima unfurled his fingers one by one. "The texture and flavour of the corn custard which is great, the sea urchin, and finally the sauce. There is certainly more to this dish than meets the eye. It's very complex and certainly fitting to be a seafood centrepiece main. Thank you, Mimasaka-kun".

Subaru bowed and cleared the plate. So far, he scored all good criticism. He looked up at the audience and sneered. They called him arrogant, so why didn't they try to prove him wrong? Oh wait… a hundred of them tried and failed. Ha! He'd proved them better. Subaru turned and looked at Mitsunaga who was busy getting his dishes on the serving trolley to the judges. His face was carefully constructed to be impassive and emotionless, not letting anything slip. The losers called him mean and they hated him for being successful. Subaru despised them for trying to be on the moral high ground. Was he being too harsh? No. Those _Tootsuki_ wannabe chefs should take a look in the mirror and _then_ remember how good _he_ looked for claiming all their knives.

He approached his opponent midway.

"Good luck following up on that".

"…".

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Yozora took a deep breath. He could never get used to this. His loop for _**Track 63**_ ended a while ago, as he listened to the praises and accolades Mimasaka was getting for a newer version of his dish, _Jewel of the Sea._ He placed his dishes in front of each judge and each of them lost their breathing as they gawked and gape. Floating particles of dry ice stayed shallow and hovered tightly to the seaweed that lined the second dish beneath the first. He held onto his jug of hot water.

"Oh… my… goodness!", gasped Chef Inui. She clamped her hands to her cheeks to staunch her excitement. "I mean, this dish is so intense! It's gob-smackingly spectactular! See, this is the student I was telling you about Sonoko- _senpai._ I had him in my group for the _Rapport Building Training Camp_ this year".

Yozora felt a blush slowly form on his cheeks, but he quickly stamped it down. He wished he had his usual headphones on him. Chef Kikuchi rubbed her finger on her chin as she looked at him with large and wonderous eyes.

"Eh? So he's the one that listens to videogame music while cooking? And the music leads his creations?".

"Yep! Isn't that right, Mitsunaga-kun?". Chef Inui leaned forward excitedly.

"Uh… Yes, chef", Yozora deadpanned.

"It's a piece of art too. It looks just like the shore line". Chef Mizuhara interrupted, bringing the focus away from him and back to his dish. "It's incredibly intricate and immediately my eyes are drawn to the pearlescent sphere sitting on the plate".

"Oh please, please, please, _please_ tell us about your dish!", cooed Chef Inui.

"A-Alright. There's _**poached mussel with kaffir lime**_. There's pieces of _**cuttlefish**_ that I grilled on the hibachi and dressed in _**charred cucumber oil**_. The sea bream is an _**apple-smoked sashimi**_ so it's the fresh element. I've got some _**salt bush**_ and _**austral seablite**_ , plus some _**golden kelp**_ as well. There is a _**pacific oyster**_ underneath and the blue bit over here is _**wild scampi caviar**_. This here is _**meyer lemon marmalade**_. The 'wave' my dish is carrying is basically a soft _**mussel foam meringue**_. The main visual component is the _**pearl**_. It's a _**pinenut and miso ice cream**_ pearl. It's in a _mannitol_ shell and it's coated in cocoa butter… umm. That's it".

The judges nodded enthusiastically, not knowing what to say after hearing so many elements. Yozora held his breath as he observed each of their faces through his messy fringe. They looked to each other with wide smiles as if trying to share their amazement.

"Oh! I call this _**Pearl on the Ocean Floor**_ _",_ Yozora threw in before he forgot.

"Well. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to dig in", declared Chef Tsunozaki.

"Ah wait".

Yozora stepped up with the jug of hot water. Chef Tsunozuki froze and widened her eyes, just as her hand poised over her utensils. He went around and poured a thin stream into the bottom dish in a circle, that contained the seaweed and pellets of dry ice. Like magic the dormant smokey tendrils came alive and flooded over the rim and escaped onto the desk. More and more plumes grew from the pellets, never ending. The chef's reeled back and gasped, watching the curling plumes slink on the surface and mingling with its neighbours.

"This reminds me of sea fog or sea mist rolling in from the sea", praised Chef Inui. "It's absolutely magical and like a fairy tale".

The other chef's hummed their approval and the excitement ignited in their eyes. When they were ready, each of the chef cut into his dish and explored everything he had to offer. The looks of wonder and astonishment as they sampled all his elements pleased him to know end. He felt himself smile too and was elated to see them enjoy his dish, turning over everything for more surprises. They were just like children who went exploring in rock pools or in the shallow waters of the coral reefs. The spark of joy as the chefs cracked open the pinenut-miso pearl burst into fireworks. The sharp crack of the pearl breaking was also music to Yozora's ears. When they tasted his ice-cream, their eyes widened like saucers and they stared at his dish as if they couldn't believe they had tasted such a thing. They didn't polish off their dish quickly like they did with Mimasaka's. Yozora watched as they savoured each morsel of his dish, with glassy looks in their eyes…

… As if they were re-living something… or listening to his _story_.

"Your dish is so delicious. It's absolutely amazing. There's lots of stuff going on, lots of layers of flavour and perfectly balanced", started Chef Mizuhara.

"I agree! There are so many different intricate flavours and layers on this dish. It's incredibly complex, even for some of my collegues", added Chef Kikuchi.

"Me too. The flavours are all so nice. _Kami-sama_ there's so much to love about this dish", added Chef Inui.

"I think the pinenut-miso ice cream is great. It's like an _umami_ bomb", said Chef Tsunozaki.

"Yes! The sphere is so thin, it has the perfect sweetness, so bright and clean. You can see how thin the _mannitol_ shell is and when you eat it, you'll know if it's too thick, which would be horrible because it would stick to your teeth. Well done Mitsunaga-kun!", said Chef Kikuchi again.

"I am very impressed by the central element, which is the caramelised miso flavour", said Chef Mizuhara. "The flavour is delicious and it has a slight bitter note from the caramelisation process to bring that balance to this dish".

"What I'm loving about this dish is that seafoam", Chef Doujima joined in. "It's got a great ocean flavour that compliments the cuttlefish and the miso flavour in the ice cream. Also the mussels are really lovely and the gel is fantastic".

"Don't forget that marmalade", said Chef Inui. "It's hugely important in this dish, as it has the acidity that the palate calls out for. The meyer lemon is so amazing and it pairs really well with the oysters".

"That _wonderful_ maritime saltiness is really strong in the dish. Both texture and flavour is on point. The way you've ordered each element was so carefully thought-out and structured so that we taste each and every texture. Little details like that are super important", said Chef Mizuhara.

"This dish his highly multisensory", said Chef Doujima as he appraised his dish. "It is loaded with techniques. A lot of elements on this dish cover techniques from savoury to sweet. It is very technical, but everything as a purpose and a place there. I agree with Chef Mizuhara, it's all about the details".

Chef Doujima pinned him with his set of intelligent eyes.

"It's hard to imagine that this dish is based on video-game music. Yet as strange as the notion is, I feel as if there is an underlying message to this dish with the way you've constructed and presented it both visually, textually and by flavour and taste. The ocean floor is made _so_ beautiful in your plate in more ways than one. I cannot stress enough how complex your flavours are. It makes me believe the ocean is truly as magical, mystical and beautiful as this". Chef Doujima pointed to his plate.

"With the rate we're going with all the pollution that ends up in the sea, I'd say Mitsunaga's dish is but a fleeting dream or a reminder of what we could still save if we really tried to conserve the maritime and all its wonder and unique seafood and flavours", added Chef Tsunozaki.

"That's right! If we saved the ocean, we would still have our beautiful seafood and our sea life!", Chef Inui cheered.

"So what do you say, Mitsunaga-kun? What was the intention behind your dish?".

Yozora tilted his head and thought. He didn't have to for too long. He only had one response.

"Your story is anything you want it to be. I leave the narrative up to you".

"Cheeky little thing…", Yozora heard Chef Tsunozaki mutter.

Yozora saw the pleasant surprise dawn on their faces before they could hide it. A small smile played on his lips. He guessed he got that a lot. It wasn't strictly true that he'd left the interpretation open to the judges. He'd poured his heart into the dish and without the judges knowing, he'd touched them deep inside without them realising. It wasn't his job to _verbally_ tell them what the story was. It was up to him to stroke, nurture and urge their subconscious yearn to connect with people and emotions and open a channel for them to _listen_ and _taste_ his story through his culinary composition. To Yozora, the piece he listened to spoke of the ocean shore as a gateway, a place where the aquatic and terrestrial worlds collided, hence he chose to construct a 'shoreline'. The flavours of the ocean were literally a world apart from the flavours of the land. He wanted to showcase the extraordinary uniqueness of the ocean flavours and celebrate it alongside the terrestrial ingredients. He'd wanted to remind them of the _beauty, what humanity could still have if they took better care of the planet._ He'd probably belong beneath the waters if evolution had taken a different path. Then he would be in the cool waters peeking at the dry world from the ocean floor, curious as to what lay on the land. But at the end of the day he was human. So he'd be satisfied to see the orange kissed skies or clear blue skies with eyes that were better suited for the air while he yearned to explore the dominion of the aquatic world.

Yozora teased the earpieces out from his ears, fully aware at how Mimasaka was watching him closely.

" _Judges, it is time to come to a decision. Please cast your votes for the winner of this Quarter Final match slash shokugeki!",_ blared the emcee.

Yozora closed his eyes. He turned around and _looked_ at Mimasaka.

" _The winner is… Mitsunaga Yozora!"_

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* * *

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"No… No fucking way!".

His blood ran cold and his bone rattled in his body, almost crumbling and bringing him to his knees. It was impossible! He'd _lost!_ His anger and incredulity came like an impossible build-up of steam on the way out, burning his skin. It wasn't supposed to be this way! He'd covered _everything_ and he knew Mitsunaga's techniques inside and out, he should've been able to predict his every move! There was an explosion in his mental framework as the claps and cheers of the audience abused his ears.

Suddenly a very stern and serious man strode briskly out onto the stadium sporting a very snazzy but visually-impairing suit. He balanced his glasses upon his nose and cleared his throat, capturing everyone's attention in more ways than one. It was Kageura Hisanao, the President of the _Shokugeki_ Administration Bureau.

"I have here the contracts by which the leadership and executive decisions of _The Guild RS_ would be handed over to Mimasaka Subaru, and permission to view four Director's-eyes-only student files to Mimasaka Subaru". He held up two stapled documents up high into the air. "The Director has signed both. All that would be required is his thumbprint and Mitsunaga Yozora's to relinquish his RS and the files".

Kageura-san tore the documents in half; its rip sliced the air the same way he sliced fish.

"How…" Subaru seethed.

He fitfully clenched every muscle in his body, unable to handle the frustration and humiliation for his first _shokugeki_ defeat. He shook from the blistering emotions and his eyes darted everywhere, at everyone's faces, searching for the condemning sneers.

"I know what you're thinking, Mimasaka. How did you stalk me so perfectly, but still had no clue of what I've been _really_ doing?".

Mitsunaga approached him like a ghoul from the shadows. The empty look on his face made him shudder, but his eyes on their other hand were terribly expressive, _too_ expressive for Subaru to handle as his triumphant opponent looked upon him with sympathy, not pity.

"It's not adding up… none of it adds up. I had all your receipts, I watched you in the apartment cooking the same dish, _Jewel of the Sea,_ and around town purchasing the ingredients for that dish, all week. I've watched every single recording the school had, and the ones on _Youtube_ and _Instagram_. I have all your techniques down to perfection, I even had a copy of your ingredients submission sheet, right before the order was put through. You should've made _Jewel of the Sea_ too!".

Mitsunaga stopped only a few feet away.

"Your mistake, Mimasaka is that you thought you were the _only_ person who knows how to _steal_ information and _spy_ ".

"What?!".

"A week and a half ago, you got that yearly email from the school IT department to update your school account password, yeah?".

Subaru scrunched his face. He sought through his memories and indeed he had. Every student from _Tootsuki_ received emails like that from the IT department at this time of year as part of the cyber safety protocol to continually change their passwords. There was nothing in the email, as far as he knew, that was wrong. It looked exactly the same last years, and was even addressed to _him_ _._ The email it came from was exactly the _same_ as the school IT team's email. His hesitation spurred Mitsunaga to keep going.

"Yeah… it wasn't from _Tootsuki_ ". Mitsunaga sucked his teeth. "You clicked on the link and a specially-made _Trojan_ and a specially-made _sleeper virus_ came through and planted themselves in your laptop. When you connected your smart phone, it modified itself to be compatible to iOS and spread to that too. Same with your USB. Every move you made on the computer and phone, and every step you took was monitored. _You_ yourself were watched via the laptop webcam and from your phone's front-view camera. All the information you have on your computer and phone was read and used like an open book… all to protect _me_ ".

Subaru couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"The information you have on me was doctored and given to you on a silver plate. Every recording of me at my apartment taken from that _one specific location,_ using that _one specific camera_ had its live feed replaced on your laptop as you watched it".

That was… his camera cutting in an out… It was just barely noticeable, like a slight wobble on the screen… it _wasn't_ because it was getting old?!

"All this time while you've been enjoying my piano performance recordings, and my _Jewel of the Sea_ stunts, I've been practicing _Pearl on the Ocean Floor_. Every receipt you have on me had been altered to list different ingredients as the cashier processed and printed them straight from the terminal".

Subaru gritted his teeth to the point that it shook.

"Of course you broke into the clubroom to go through all my _recipes albums_ too, why wouldn't you? I made sure to plant the seed in your head that I would be making _Jewel of the Sea_ first. So, I allowed you to read and take copies of my recipe and decipher it to your heart's content. Then I made sure my ingredients submission sheet to the Committee matched with _Jewel of the Sea_ too _._ Eizan- _senpai_ is part of the Committee and of course would give it to you before processing it. But I had the file switched on the servers right _after_ the Committee did the final checks which was right _before Tootsuki_ processed the order, with my _real_ submission sheet. All this was to lead you to the recipe that you've made today… _Jewel of the Sea_ ", said Mitsunaga.

Subaru was beyond enraged and shaking.

"You did all this by yourself?". He seethed.

"No".

Mitsunaga took a step forward.

"I have the best _cracker_ in all of _Honshu_ as my _NPC"_.

' _A cracker?!'._

Subaru couldn't breathe. He felt so defeated _._ He must've set up and prepared this stunt ages ago… possibly on the same day as the first _shokugeki_ proposition at Polar Star? He used the skills of another to evade and protect himself from his information gathering but also to outmatch him in investigations and spying _. Crackers_ were defined as unethical computer experts who not only infiltrated computer servers, networks and systems, but they exploited and _destroyed._ So _a_ ll of his electronic files on Mitsunaga _…_! They were _corrupted_ midway through the one week intermission which was when he had finished typing them up! There hadn't been enough time for him to go and salvage the data as he had to practice his mimicry. That must have been it.

"So you… all that was done by a _cracker_. You got him to do all that?".

"Her… I got _her_ to do all that".

Mitsunaga turned towards him. He craned his head forward as if trying to inspect and discern Subaru's face with those deep wells of blue. He parted his lips. Subaru sneered. It had been a _girl?!_ He was bested by an _otaku_ and a _female_ computer cracker _._ As if there wasn't enough salt in his wounds. The thought stained his tongue with bitter and rancid tar. Mitsunaga's nonchalance as he casually explained how he'd escaped his investigations were like sharp flints that greeted the delicate soles of his feet.

"No one can beat my perfect trace! Mimasaka Subaru's cooking can't be beaten!", he roared.

"If you still don't get it, why don't you have a taste?".

He sensed Mitsunaga approach him and held out a plate. It was Chef Doujima's partially eaten one. Subaru accepted into his hand. He didn't have a close look at it during the judging but his breath was taken away by the presentation, half eaten as it was. The cool tendrils caressed and soothed his heated skin as it tumbled from the bottom dish. He looked into Mitsunaga's eyes, and was surprised to see a grace to them. There were no ill-intentions lurking beneath. Just calm, ocean blue. Miraculously, his ire started to abate as suspicious and curiosity took hold. He lifted the fork up, stabbed a few things that were left and put it into his mouth.

"…!"

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* * *

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"Where am I?".

Subaru lifted himself from the sand. His legs spread out before him on grainy the warmth and he turned this way and that, trying to grasp a sense of location. The beach stretched out alongside the water, kilometres and kilometres, seeing no end in sight. Subaru sat on the primrose sand, his eyes roving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. The briny waves come towards him, just tickling his toes before receding and repeating. Subaru breathed deeply of the ocean-carried air and listened to the percussion of waves that sounded like lullabies. The gulls brought their high notes to the percussion of pebbles at the shoreline.

It'd been a long time since he'd visited the beach.

"Hello, son".

Subaru jumped onto his feet, sand kicking everywhere. He looked to the voice and stared at the figure sitting on a vintage deckchair over-looking the rouge sun kissing the horizon. His old and weathered face was peppered with age-spots and his moustache and thinning hair was speckled with grey. It'd been a long time since Subaru had seen him, but he'd recognise his father anywhere.

"Otou-san…".

Finally his father turned to him and Subaru could see that he was wearing the exact same clothes as the day he banished him to _Tootuski_. Suddenly, he felt his grief and anger give rise, but it drowned when his father looked at him with a gentle but humorous smile.

"Ah. I haven't heard you call me that in a long time", he chuckled.

This was too weird. The last memory Subaru had of his father was that caved-in expression with lips grimacing and twisted in jealously and anger, as he cruelly berated him in the baking competition, calling him a copy-cat and a worthless chef.

"What are you doing here?", asked Subaru.

"I suppose I'm here to apologise".

"Apologise?", Subaru scoffed. He stomped closer. "For three years, you haven't said a thing to me! You shipped me off to _Tootsuki_ as quickly as you could to rid me! And _now_ you want to say you're sorry?!".

Subaru grabbed his own shirt front, right above his heart, feeling the combustion waiting to happen. His father suddenly looked away, something akin to remorse flickered through his eyes.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, my son. I should never have put you down like that".

"Tch".

"Please understand. I love you and I only want the best for you. As a child, you always wanted to follow in my foot-steps, which is natural for any son towards their father. You are an extremely talented chef and a fast learner, you could overcome _anything_ ".

Subaru was breathing hard and fast now, as every word his tiny father uttered hit straight home, tearing his heart to pieces and stitching it back together just as fast. It was painful, but it made the abyss in his heart shrink a little more, closer to something soft, warm and powerful. It scared him beyond anything. Father got up from the deckchair.

"The world is your oyster. I didn't want you to confine yourself to me, and model yourself after me. In doing so, you would never see _the beyond_ and reach your full potential _._ You have so much potential to be original and creative, doing things that only 'Mimasaka Subaru' can do. The manner in which I wanted to teach you was wrong. I understand that now. I spurned my sweet boy, I was angry that you didn't get it on your own, when really I should've helped you to understand".

His father reached out and placed his hand on Subaru's huge shoulder. The weight of it sent the rock in his stomach dropping straight into the sand, crumbling and dissolving and only a nauseating lightness remained.

All this time… his father didn't hate him?

"I… I… I don't –", choked Subaru.

"Oh my boy".

Father drew him into an embrace and crushed his body to him. Subaru's arms immediately shot up and wrapped them around his father's tiny body and hugged him so tightly, afraid he'd disappear.

"Even this old fool still needs to learn plenty. But you are still young and you know, you have a beautiful _soul_ and have a kind _heart_. The maids rave about it day in and out when you used to bake with them. When you put your _heart_ and _soul_ into even the smallest acts, the feeling you get is a worth their weight in gold and when the person whom you cook for loves your dishes as much as you do, it's the best thing in the universe. I want you to _experience_ that. Please don't let all your light disappear. I know you have it in you to do the right thing… the _kind_ thing".

"It's too late. I-I've broken the spirits of my opponents and I've stolen their pride from them and lorded it over them. There's no coming back from that. I can't have forgiveness".

"I think, your most recent opponent has forgiven you".

Subaru looked up and realised. Mitsunaga didn't look upon him with scorn or hate when he'd won. He just looked at him as if he… understood. Forgiveness… could he imagine _forgiveness?_ But for the moments when he was in so deep, it was just easier to swim down. Subaru's fortress was finally reduced to paper soaked by the crashing waves of the never-ending beach. Before he could draw air into his quaking body, he realised he was crying and just melted into Father's form. He could feel something pitter-pattering in his firm chest and realised it was his heart coming alive after being shackled for so long. Father's arms were folded around his back, drawing him closer. Subaru could feel his body shake, crying for the missed time he would never get back, crying to release the hate and anger for those three long years. Finally, Subaru pulled his head back and wiped the tears with his calloused thumb. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He'd made up his mind. He was going wipe the slate clean and start over.

Suddenly, he felt lonely.

 _"Otou-san._ Is this all real? Or is it just happening inside my head?".

His father braced against his arms and pulled away. He smiled up at him.

"Of course it's happening inside your head, Subaru. Why should that mean, it's not real?".

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* * *

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"Bring it in!"

Subaru emerged from the recess of his mind from the loud call of Kageura-san, his dish still in his hand. Suddenly he felt blinded by the stadium lights and fought the urge to squint sourly at them. Suddenly a deafening whirring and rumbling noise snapped him fully back into reality and he turned just in time to see a huge shipping container being brought into the arena by a large fork lift.

It was his knife collection!

"According to the results of the _Shokugeki,_ Mimasaka Subaru's right to own these implements has been revoked and these implements will be returned to their former owners by Mitsunaga Yozora's wishes".

There was a stunned silence at first and then suddenly a stampede of screeching and screaming students rushed from the stands like an avalanche. They clamoured over each other for their knives in his massive display case. The gladness and reprieve poured from them continuously and slammed into him, bringing Subaru fell to his knees, shocked and spellbound that each of his victories was disappearing right before his eyes. He felt so empty. He watched helpless as they took them all back, one by one.

"Um… M-Mitsunaga-san?".

A girl approached to their side of the stadium, clutching a knife-case in her arms, hugging for dear life. Subaru looked at her as she walked past, mouth agape. Her eyes glistened with tears and her bottom lip quivered. She slowly walked up to Mitsunaga who was fiddling with his phone strapped to his arm.

"I-I inherited this cleaver when my m-mother died. It's a family heirloom… _Thank you so much!_ ".

She threw herself into a bow from the waist, perpendicular to the floor. Then she shot off to rejoin her friends with Mitsunaga staring after her with a surprised, but small smile on his face. His eyes said everything.

"And finally!", boomed Kageura. "Eizan Etsuya has handed in his signed contract given by Mitsunaga Yozora, thus full-filling the final requirement of Mitsunaga Yozora's victory!".

The audience cheered enthusiastically. Subaru doubted they even knew what the last stake was about. Kageura-san walked right up to Mitsunaga and handed him the envelope. Mitsunaga took it eagerly and opened it up to check the contents. A huge smile bloomed across his face.

" _Mitsunaga-kun!"._

The unmistakable voice of the Seventh Seater cut through the din as he jogged onto the stage, gently pushing past and weaving through the sea of students. Subaru had never seen an Elite Ten member actually _run_ before. Isshiki Satoshi took gulps of air and he panted as he finally reached them. His uniform was slightly ruffled and his tie was loosened from running from one end of the arena through a throng of spastic students, to the other. He didn't have his blazer with him. His smile was full and glad, his turquoise eyes sparkled with satisfaction. He was still breathing deeply by the time he stepped up to Mitsunaga, his hand placed on his chest to calm his heart down.

"Congratulations, Mitsunaga-kun", said Isshiki- _senpai._

"Thanks, _senpai",_ Mitsunaga grinned. "Here. This is for you".

Isshiki- _senpai's_ eyes widened in confusion at being presented with the envelope. Subaru looked upon the exchange, confused too. He hesitantly took it from the gamer chef's proffered hand and looked between the envelope and Mitsunaga, waiting for an explanation for why the envelope with Eizan- _senpai's_ signed contract was being given to him. Mitsunaga remained silent and just looked at the Seventh Seater eagerly. The auburn-haired student opened it up and pulled out the document. Subaru had never seen Isshiki- _senpai_ looked so shocked before! His mouth fell open as his sky-blue eyes were wide and roved and drank every word on the first page.

' _What's on the damn contract?'._

Suddenly Isshiki- _senpai_ crammed the document back onto the envelope and snapped his eyes to Mitsunaga.

"But I didn't ask you to _—_ ".

"You didn't have to, _senpai"_. Mitsunaga cut him off politely.

Suddenly, Isshiki- _senpai's_ face melted into utter relief and gratitude, enough for his eyes to moisten as he shook Mitsunaga's hand. Something passed between the two of them… some sort of _secret_ that could only be understood by the pair. Isshiki- _senpai_ appeared too overcome to say anything as he just looked at Mitsunaga with emotional eyes and a wide smile. Obviously that signed contract from Eizan- _senpai_ meant a great deal to Isshiki- _senpai_ , enough to almost shed tears. Funnily enough, it was also the most genuine smile Subaru had ever seen on the seventh seater.

" _Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me"._

Subaru looked down at the dish he'd just eaten. So that's what it was about. He thought about the dish he made and how it didn't have the same level of affect compared to Mitsunaga's. He looked at where he was and where he started. He understood after tasting that there were moments that the words don't reach. There was a grace too powerful to name. He had always pushed away what he could never understand. He pushed away the _'misunderstood'_ and _'unimaginable'._

 _'I never bothered to listen to the videogame track Jewel of the Sea was based on'._

Subaru's skin suddenly felt branded. He looked around and saw all the glares of hatred from all his past opponents surrounding him, keeping their distance but cursing him with their withering glower. He deserved it. There was nothing he could do to redeem himself except… Yes. He thought his decision would be enough.

"Guess this is it". He bowed his head. "I will leave _Tootsuki_. My life as a chef is over. After this miserable loss, I don't have anything left to take pride in".

"Look at me".

The quiet and commanding tone forced him to obey.

"Listen, Mimasaka. Don't you ever think about crushing someone's last scrap of pride just because you beat them in a single match".

Subaru instantly fell into the swirls of blue, looking down at him from behind raven locks and surrounded by thick lashes. They held such power in them as they locked him in his place, at the feet of his opponent. Mitsunaga continued.

"I know you think failure is the worst thing ever, but even if you fail so badly and your self-confidence is completely shot, even if you've been so humiliated that you don't feel like you can step a foot out in public again… because no matter what, _**t** **he show must go on** "._

Mitsunaga crouched down to match his eye level.

"And… sometimes you gotta _tank_ a few enemy hits in order to _unlock_ your _limit break._ That's part of the _game_ called _'Life'_ _._ Plus! You have the skill and talent to _do more_ than just fight tacky cooking matches! There is still so much out there in the culinary world we haven't tasted, smelt, looked, touched or _felt_ yet!"

Mitsunaga was almost out of breath, inhaling and exhaling sharply with eyes still piercing through Subaru. The earnestness and barely-there desperation in his words punched him in the gut over and over, leaving him in a daze.

"Your hands still work, your eyes still see, your nose still smells, your tongue still tastes and your _heart_ still beats, so don't go _rage-quitting_ on us, yeah?".

Subaru admitted he was wrong the whole time. He'd lost, but Mitsunaga still told him to keep cooking? What a weird kid… He could feel his heart, hard and unyielding for so long beginning to unwind and unknot like the chains and shackles around him breaking off.

"Also, I hope you found the closure you needed in my dish", said Mitsunaga, getting up and dusting his knees.

"Yeah…"

Subaru got up as well.

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 _"I hope one day that you find **yours** too"._

* * *

 **There we have it! Yozora wins! Awwww Mimasaka! I trashed him in my other story, so I wanted to give him a 'happy' ending here and let him come to terms with all that anger and grief for being banished to** _ **Tootsuki**_ **... in his head. Interpret it as you will :) I hope this chapter was worth the wait!**

 **All this time the contract Eizan-** _ **senpai**_ **had to sign if Yozora won was for Isshiki-** _ **senpai**_ ** _?_ I wonder what that could be…**

 **Yukihira's flashback on Hayato's mysterious conversation was back in** _ **Chapter 14 – Dining Car**_ **when Yozora and Mimasaka disappeared into Yukihira's room for a private discussion. Keen-eyed readers' spidey-senses would've tingled by the nature of Hayato's phone conversation, and figured out that** _ **The Guild**_ **was going to screw Mimasaka over before he even had the chance.**

 **Next chapter is… Yozora and Erina are going to spend some time together after school!**

 **Please let me know what you think and I'll see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	18. Crystalline Chill

_Chapter 18 – Crystalline Chill_

* * *

' _Is an hour going to be enough?'._

He yawned without covering his mouth, and then he scribbled on top of the already existing scribbles on his piece of paper. Class had ended twenty minutes ago and the absence of students was a welcomed relief. Nobody wanted to dawdle and waste time at the end the last period, thank fuck for that. He looked around. The deserted corridor seemed to stretch longer under the afternoon glow. Polar Star had headed off and Yukihira had bolted somewhere to learn more about his next match's star ingredient while Hayato-kun had been summoned by Kasai- _senpai_ to help with something. Yozora smirked at the memory of his best friend pouting and grumbling, but the poor guy had to concede because It was ' _Kasai-senpai'_ after all. He shifted his book-bag strap higher up his shoulders as he tried to write on the other side of the note paper cradled in his palm. As long it was fifty percent readable, it was fine. He fought to keep the ballpoint pen from piercing the wrinkled paper, but the squiggly indentations were wearing thin. Yozora shifted his balance again and crossed his feet at the ankles. The cool surface of the wall was starting to irritate his back muscles from the constant leaning. He slipped his headphones off and let it fall to his neck. He took a long drag of air through his nose and expelled it through his mouth twice as fast. His breath blew his fringe up before it settled itself elsewhere against his forehead.

Yozora leaned to the side and peeked back into the lecture hall.

' _She's still talking to the lecturer'._

From his position, Yozora could see her golden hair draped down, softly curling along at the ends. Every time she appeared in the class, she strutted as if she knew she was born to be a queen of the earth, not just a clan heiress. It was kind of sexy. He turned back around and settled his back against the wall again. Yozora snorted through his grin. There was a comical absurdity to it now that he was dating the coveted _'God's Tongue'_ right under everyone's noses. She was not on _Tootsuki's_ pedestal anymore, but rather on _his_. The only ones who were in-the-know were Hayato-kun, Yukihira, Aldini-kun and Kasai- _senpai_. He had made them swear to keep their relationship to themselves for _her_ sake, and they didn't see why not. Especially, Aldini-kun who wished he hadn't known in the first place.

Also, he doubted Nakiri even told her aide.

He licked his lips.

Nakiri could be a ticking time bomb waiting to explode when it came to the whole dating thing. He never knew whether she was going to blow-up at him, snap whenever he talked or looked at her. Thankfully none of that happened, she would just squirm or fidget. Sometimes she'd appear like she was teetering on the brink, but then nothing. Nakiri was also a tad more cordial towards him in front of everyone, actually. That was a huge something in his books and he couldn't wait until she warmed up to him further. However that didn't mean he could let his guard down just in case he did or said anything remarkably lame or stupid to accidentally trigger her. He couldn't help it! When a new video-game soundtrack got released or a new video game trailer came out, he'd get verbal diarrhoea! On the bright side, it was the small, delicate blushes, those amethyst eyes sneaking glances at him under false pretense, and the odd stammer that gave away how much she was _totally_ into him too, and he revelled in it like a spoilt kid.

Yozora lifted his head and rested it back against the wall, right where the scar on his scalp touched the hard surface.

Despite how much he enjoyed watching her show her vulnerability in subtle ways to him, deep down he was in a constant flux of cyclonic emotions with her. He'd never dated either and he wondered if it showed. He had the better poker-face, right? Underneath his own calm bullshit exterior, his mouth would go dry whenever Nakiri turned in his direction and his body always ran hot when she drew near. His groin would pulse with a deep-seated heaviness whenever she crossed her arms under her bust, pushing it up, and crossed her legs, exposing her milky, smooth skin a little more from between her thigh-high socks and skirt. In those moments, he could do nothing but yank his headphones over his ears, pump up the jam, drown in his music and bury his head in his arms and force himself to sleep. _Those_ in-class naps were a fuck-load more difficult to enjoy. Then on the even _rarer_ occasions he would wake up from those said naps to a hard-on in class following a vivid dream about her cosplaying for him. _Oh… he was SO bad_ _…_ The better times were when her intelligence and sharp, scathing wit would make his heart palpitate so damn hard that he would be the one who blanked out when she spoke to him, fizzling out every coherent thought in a sweet blissful ignorance while she gave him confused or disgusted looks for staring at her lips like a creeper. Yukihira normally got a kick out of that. It wasn't his fault. Nakiri's intelligence was just as sexy.

His lips tugged up in a wry smile. What could he do? Nakiri was potent and he craved each dose. But the frazzled nerves didn't compare to the happiness of being allowed to get to be with her and know the _real_ Nakiri Erina.

Yozora prided himself in the ability to see through all that crap with airs-and-grace. Inside Nakiri's guarded heart, he saw a locked chest, fortified by thick chains buried deep inside the ivory tower, desperate to be found and shattered to liberate the trapped beautiful and strong creature inside that was meant to be free. When Nakiri thought no one was looking, her fiery ice was doused in ice water, unnervingly still like an antique doll. It was like she'd drifted into a shell, so tough to reach. Just to move her eyes was an effort and he could see the hollowness and the dissatisfaction with everything around her in them. Yozora would observe silently, knowing only _trauma_ could make a brutally tough, but poised and highly acclaimed heiress flicker in and out of such a state beneath everyone's nose. Except _his,_ of course. These moments went as fast as they came, but he'd already burned those private moments into his retina.

What strength did she force herself to carry, to ensure she woke up every morning to face the day?

He could already feel a fierce protectiveness for her.

' _She should never have to feel the need to be that strong in the first place. From now on, I'll be her strength'._

Sharp clicking footsteps approached from the side, prompting Yozora to push off the wall. He turned to see Nakiri emerge from the door and she flicked her hair back and they rippled against her shoulders. She opened her brilliant violet eyes and blinked up at him, her gaze forthcoming and steely. She tilted her chin up in her signature pose. That was worth three-hundred damage points to his heart and it felt _really good_. Why was he so lucky to have her? She bit her lip and turned away when Yozora stared back just as hard.

"Ready?". He asked.

She nodded stiffly. "Yesterday, I said we had an hour, but the rest of my schedule is clear now. So I suppose we could stretch our outing for longer".

Nakiri stepped out into the corridor and faced perpendicular to him. She stood with a hip jutted to the side, her right arm draped across her curved body, clasping the elbow opposite while her hand dangled her book-bag. Yozora's brow shot up into his hairline. More time with Nakiri? He didn't know whether the good news was making him unbelievably happy or excited!

Then, it was like she had a horrible realisation and scrambled to fix her error.

"I-I wasn't the one who cleared it! It was _Ojii-sama!_ So don't get any ideas! He thought I've been working hard enough for the _Autumn Elections Committee…_ so, b-be grateful that I've decided to give the rest of the afternoon to us!".

Nakiri's sudden flare knocked the wind out of him. He leaned back, but was rooted to the spot, wary to do anything that would throw her even more off-balance, but the cute flush on her cheeks only made him want to laugh and he fought for control over his facial muscles _really_ hard not to do that in her face. He didn't want to get dumped right before their first real date.

"I'm not complaining". He strained to keep his smile under control.

Nakiri narrowed her eyes at him and in response, Yozoro shoved his pen and paper back into his book-bag, put his hands up, palm facing towards her to assuage her hot temper and to show that he wasn't armed with any witty remarks. She visibly calmed down then looked at her expensive watch, then looked back at him.

"Well? What are we doing?". She asked, quickly moving the conversation along.

He lifted a gift bag from the floor that was on his other side. He held it out to Nakiri. She didn't take it but rather peeked inside with a hundred percent suspicion. She wrinkled her nose and pulled back.

"I'm not wearing that".

"These are just casual clothes and they're your size". Yozora tilted his head, perplexed. It took solid effort to procure these.

"That's not what I meant". Nakiri angled her body towards him and she pinched her rose-tinged lips. Her cheeks slowly reddened which piqued Yozora's curiosity. "I mean, we don't need a disguise for me…" she muttered.

"But everyone will see you".

"So?".

"So… we'll be found out".

"Is that such a bad thing?".

Erina almost looked _offended_. Yozora slowly pulled the bag back. Say what now?

His brows drew together as he gaped at Nakiri. She was fervently swapping between peering at him from below her lashes and the corridor window. He'd thought she'd wanted to keep this a secret because of her status and all that. He wasn't happy about the idea himself, but making sure she felt safe and that she trusted him was more important than the pettiness sulking at the back of his mind wanting to publicly show everyone how precious she was to him. Right now, something grew in his belly, spreading its warmth in radiating waves and it trickled in his chest like honey. Did he dare to think… she was okay to be seen that she was _with_ him? His eyelids remained glued to their sockets as he drank in the deepening blush on her face as she worked to keep a straight face over her _blatantly_ honest one. His jaw slackened as the implication started to sink in.

Nakiri coughed into her fist. "… I-It's not like you're someone I'd be ashamed to… to _be with_ …".

Yozora closed his eyes his bones melted in fluffy goo. Wow. He could die a blissful death from that proclamation. He knew that she wasn't ashamed of him, per say, otherwise why would she be dating him in the first place? But there was always this miniscule worry and doubt sewn in the back of his brain that maybe she _was_ to some degree… and then she'd change her mind and break it off with him. She could set up herself with someone _way_ better than he was. But when she said those words aloud in that impossibly small but brave voice, all that niggling fear vanished into thin air. He let the words repeat in his head like a mantra and it washed over him, savouring it. It was like a great weight tumbled from his shoulders and morphed into large wings so he could fly. Get it together… get it together… get it together… He'd really underestimated the strength and honesty of Nakiri's heart.

All he needed now, was to _not fuck up_ taking out the girl of his dreams, in the romantic way, not the _Counter-Strike_ way.

"I'm not gonna complain about that either".

Nakiri rolled her eyes to hide her cute embarrassment.

"What are we going to do?". She asked, getting back on track.

"I've only planned an hour, but I've got some more ideas. Play along with me and you'll see what I have in store for you".

Yozora held out his hand. Nakiri glanced down at it as if it was a greasy piece of chicken. He watched cautiously as she sucked in her breath and held it. Refraining from taking in more oxygen made the rosiness in her cheeks deepen. Slowly, she uncurled her hand from her elbow and tentatively touched her fingers against the middle of his palm, like being careful not to catch anything strange. She was light and ticklish, but he felt every brush like little pleasant static shocks. Yozora's chest tightened, wondering when was the last time their skin touched since their first ever 'peck'. Her palm was frozen just above his, only the fingertips connecting to his palm. She still eyed it like a wild animal, testing out the waters, see if it was safe but ready to hidd and bolt at the first sign of danger. Her blush was really getting out of hand and she bit her lip into a tight grimace, as if she really wanted something she shouldn't have. He gulped. Every surface on her face was glowing red as she agonised over whether she should take his offered hand or not. Oh… she was actually trembling now and Yozora had no idea what to do. Should he let her keep prodding his hand? Take it slow? Hand-holding was probably way too much for her. Actually, was hand-holding even allowed for Nakiri girls? He'd never thought of it, but if that was a _faux pas_ then that would explain a lot! His hand was held out longer than he expected and it was starting to worry if it was too much for Nakiri. His worry over her state of mind became more legitimate as the long seconds ticked by and if he didn't do something quick, his unpredicatble girlfriend might malfunction. Her fingers continued to touch and not-touch his hand, making it over-sensitised, so Yozora thought it was better to save her from making the decision.

It was better not to get ahead of himself too, no matter how much he wanted to hold her beautiful hand in his. Baby steps were best.

Yozora dropped his hand only a few centimetres until a sudden tight grip wrenched it back! The force of it choked him. His striking blue eyes shot up to his captive appendage, stunned by the tight and hot squeeze around his long fingers. He slowly looked up and bore witness to Nakiri looking like she wanted the ground to crack open and swallow her up. Her eyes were swimming with wateriness and embarrassment, and her face was rouge like the sunset. Her lips were pursed together and stern, trying extremely hard to keep it from quivering.

Just when he thought he couldn't get any happier.

She was holding his hand. She _actually_ wanted to hold his hand.

Yozora grinned softly and slowly adjusted their grip, getting her to loosen up her grasp before she destroyed his ability to play the piano. She was still rigid, but started to meld under his guidance. Her hands were surprisingly small. They were calloused from her hard culinary training, but still soft from her hand-cream. He manoeuvred his palm to fit over hers, and cradled her fingers gently. He pulled her tenderly towards him. Her feet started to move, but her head was ducked down, her fringe hiding her face. He really wanted to say something about this magical moment, but he held his tongue. He'd probably say something stupid to ruin the moment.

Yozora turned on his heel and urged Nakiri to walk beside him. She was putting up such a brave front to show that this was no big deal and it made her even more adorable to him. With her hand still under the care of his, they walked down the corridor in the direction of the building exit.

"H-Holding hands is just for today. Don't expect it too much".

The credibility in her toned was strained.

"Sure" he replied.

" _I mean it!"._

Yozora gave in to a chuckle and suddenly a great big _thwump_ blasted his shoulder. Ow.

But she didn't let go.

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

 _ **Seishunchou**_

"What _is_ this place?".

Erina didn't know whether she should be mad at him or dumbfounded by his lack of common sense. She was definitely not impressed. Mitsunaga had been taking her through small streets and back alleys and she wondered why she didn't have the mind to cut loose and call Kenta-san to take her back to the Nakiri Manor _._ This _surely_ couldn't be the usual routes for dates! On the way she saw a tortoise-shell cat. It didn't look like a stray, it looked as well fed as any pet cat. But when it hissed at her, she wanted to hiss back. Filthy thing. The buildings were tight together and loomed over her, like a forest of concrete making her almost press against Mitsunaga's side as she followed him. He weaved left and right as if he knew these turns like the back of his hand, a stupid smile on his face the whole time as if there was nothing wrong with trekking through narrow and dirty pathways.

Erina had been adamant to keep silent the entire trip, not trusting her voice or words to say anything that would betray her embarrassment and fluttering nerves. Mitsunaga had done most of the talking and had been content to do so. She supposed she was grateful for that. He'd chatted about classical music mostly. She'd discovered that _Racmaninoff_ was his favourite composer and pianist. He'd been mindful not to mention videogames. She still had no idea why on _Kami-sama's_ green earth humanity invented videogames. She didn't know whether she should be guilty for restricting his freedom to talk about and share his interests with her or not. Either way, she'd rather not listen to videogame jargon.

His large hand had been warm and cocooned hers like a precious treasure. She'd thought she was going to vomit her heart out from the thought of holding a _boy's_ hand. Indecision collapsed her insides, layers at a time but she did it! The hind-part of her brain had made her grab his hand in the last second, afraid that she'd never get the chance again… and she still couldn't believe that she'd done something so scandalous as holding hands!

Images of _shoujou manga_ heroines had played in her mind like a movie reel. _They_ only held hands with their love interests as they walked home from school after knowing each other for six months. She and Mitsunaga barely started anything until a week! She blushed profusely. She was still waiting for the next volume… Erina didn't know how she'd go about acquiring this sort of literature on her own. Hisako had always sourced them and she still wasn't back. She'd never seen them in _Ojii-sama's_ library either.

Finally, Erina had refused to look elsewhere except her feet as Mitsunaga led them out of the entrance gate. She'd made sure to set the record straight with him, but his deep, bubbling chuckle had told her that he didn't buy it. How irritating. Also, she couldn't bear to think who had seen them on the way out. Students or teachers or both? But she'd already made the decision not to hide. _Cowards_ and the _dishonoured_ hid and she was no coward nor dishonerable! When she'd declared that Mitsunaga was worth something to her… that she _wasn't_ ashamed of him… that smile of his… that _damned_ smile. It was the first time she'd seen that sort. It transformed him from someone who was contemptible wallpaper, into someone she wished she'd known better. His eyes warmed her and released her tension, and she knew then that she'd made the right decision.

So Erina did her best.

They were somewhere in _Seishunchou,_ that much Mitsuanga told her. Otherwise he was keeping their destination a 'surprise', making Erina more weirded out than excited for anything. What kind of date was this?!

"The best _sushi_ restaurant in town". Mitsnuaga replied confidently.

"No it isn't". She deadpanned.

No, no no. It was just a grey concrete building with a short two flights of stairs. It was dotted with meagre pot plants. It looked like the back door of a cheap apartment on the lower floor, or an elderly person's home who no longer had the energy to maintain their plants or upkeep. The blandness screamed dirty mundane, nothing a restaurant should look, or even a decent home.

"See these stairs leading up to the door?" Mitsunaga pointed to the same flight of stairs she was being salty about, to a mysterious door with nothing on it. "That's a restaurant".

No.

Before Erina could protest, Mitsunaga tugged and she followed after him with a few choice words right on the tip of her tongue, ready to tear him a new one. She turned her nose at the dead plants and scoffed loud and proud. When they finally got there, Mitsunaga pushed the equally depressing and grey door open and Erina was suddenly encased in warmth and noise.

" _Irasshaimase!"._

"Eh?!".

Inside was a fully functioning _sushiya!_

They were in a completely different plane of existence. It was equipped with an open kitchen. But there was nothing outside the building that gave off even the slightest clue that food was served there. The restaurant was almost full and Erina looked around at the milling waitstaff. The _sushiya_ was a twelve-seater at the bar and there were only three four-seaters carefully ordered in the small restaurant space. The sleek natural timber and bamboo interiors lined the floor, bar and benches. All the wood grain lined in one direction. Perfection. Only one other word described it. _Zen._ Traditional Japanese paraphernalia ranging from wall scrolls, _ikebana_ and the lucky begging cat were tastefully decorated and kept to a minimum. It made the small _sushiya_ deceptively bigger on the inside. A gorgeous small _bonsai_ plant stood magnificently on the cashier counter, void of any further decorations as it didn't need any. _Shoji_ lined the walls for the purpose of aesthetics to give a very calming and tranquil essence of _ryokan_ in the middle of the suburban neighbourhood. Thick ropes hung and dipped from the sealing, giving it a sea-side feel as well and some texturing to balance out the sleek, oriental minimalism. Most seats were filled up with young adults, and the _yukata-_ garbed waitstaff were diligent and attentive to their diner's needs. Erina raised on her toes and peered over on the far side. She spotted a slightly separated area of _zashiki_ seating raised on platforms where a group of university students were jovially chatting over plates of _sushi._

"Hello there! How many people this afternoon?" asked the waiter at the front podium.

"Two. Reservation under Mitsunaga Yozora", he said.

"Oh yes, please come this way".

Erina barely knew what was happening as she was now fixated and fascinated in the fresh array of seafood being handled by the _itamae no sushi,_ the skillfully trained _sushi_ chef. Erina was drawn to the way the middle-aged man handled the _sashimi_ as he made _nigiri._ Every motion was precise from intense, gentle but firm repetition. Everything was uniform and perfect as he started another _nigiri_. Erina had seen many great master _itamae_ make the best, most exquisite _sushi_ in Japan right before her eyes. But there was something about this one and the way he made _sushi_ that was… different from all those other top-rated _itamae._

"Thanks", said Mitsunaga.

The tall, brown haired, but young waiter led them through and gestured to their empty seats at the edge of the _sushi_ bar. Mitsunaga released her hand and Erina realised how sweaty and clammy her palm was. _Urgh, seriously!_ She hastily wiped them on her uniform blazer willing her blushing cheeks to calm down, not believing how she didn't notice such a revolting thing the whole time! _And_ wondering why Mitsunaga hadn't said anything! A soft press against the small of her back threw her out of her thoughts and urged her forward. She took the seat that was on the inside while Mitsunaga took the seat on the outside of the counter. The young waiter was back with rolls of _oshibori_ and presented it to the two of them on dark plates. Erina nodded and stuttered her thanks and proceeded to cleanse her hands. It was heated to the temperature she liked, pleasing her. She looked to her right to see a set of chopsticks leaning neatly against a black lacquered chopstick rest at the ready. Her confidence in this place was steadily growing, but not good enough.

Erina deposited her towel and glanced up, searching for the menu on the walls. It was only then for the first time she noticed the wooden signboard above them in simple calligraphic _kanji._

 _Kawamura Sushi._

A cup of green tea was placed in front of her and Mitsunaga. She looked back and she stared at it, then looked to him. He was already blowing the rim and sipping it. The atmosphere was really light and pleasant and Erina couldn't remember the last time she visited a common restaurant. Oh, never. It was not raucous or full of unseemly people cramming food into their mouths, which was very surprising. She shivered a little, feeling a little out of her element when by all accounts as a chef, she should feel right at home. The waiter came around to the other side of the counter with the _itamae_ and prepared ingredients nearby. He was the _waikiita_ too?

"Welcome! What'll you young'uns have?".

The _itamae_ slid to their end of the counter, breaking Erina from her musings. The man, if anything, was fitter looking than Erina expected. His face told of a lean body beneath his traditional, navy blue _sushi_ coat. He also wore the standard _itamae_ cap, fit snuggly over his thinning, salt'n'pepper hair. His expression was kind and welcoming. His deep and rich voice was soothing as he addressed them, melodious and joyful. He looked like he was in his early fifties, his shallow wrinkles and crow's feet around his eyes and hardened skinned told of his intensive training as an _itamae._

" _Omakase",_ said Mitsunaga.

Erina looked to him again and all he did was smile at her and winked. Her jaw dropped and snapped back together. All _she_ could do was huff to the other side, just when she got her blush to go away! That mischievous glint in those dark blue eyes weren't _fair_. Well, good decision anyway, she'd give him that. She too was about to ask for _omakase._ After all, when trying a new establishment it was always prudent and wise to test the chef's skill and worthiness by asking for what they recommended as they would always serve their best and their specialty.

"You got it!", declared the _itamae._

He started making his first set of _sushi_ piece right in front of them while the _waikiita_ was scuttling around the back, making sure every single ingredient and the rice was well seasoned and prepared. Erina placed her hands on her lap and leaned back with the perfect posture. Now, what to say…

"Have you received news of your next match?". She asked.

"Yeah. In ten days, I'll be duking it out with **Hayama** and our ingredient is _**marron**_ _"._

Erina jolted. _Marron?_ She hadn't had the pleasure of cooking the special and unique crustacean in a very long time. Her family had imported it live all the way from Western Australia just for her. She wondered if Mitsunaga had even begun to understand the delicacy and depth of marron. Mitsunaga wasn't the studious type, so he'd better buckle down really soon and do enough research into his ingredient before cooking it, otherwise the waste of precious _marron_ meat would be blasphemous.

And of course… there was his victory from yesterday.

Erina mulled over her words carefully. The buzzing of the _sushiya_ provided the perfect cover for her as she rapped her fingernails against the cypress counter. In short, it had been amazing from start to finish. She allowed this one admission. His name plastered across the screens had caused such a riot in her heart. When she saw the forklift roll in with Mimasaka's shipping container full of knives and all those thankful students bulldozing down the stands to retrieve them, it sank into Erina that he'd actually won and that all along, he'd been confident the whole way. It was as if he _knew_ he would win. He was willing to bet his RS and risk it all! This confidence could only come with some sort of insight that went beyond Mimasaka, to the point of out-witting him from the very start with their differing ingredients, crushing his lead in the race. Mimasaka didn't have any other trump card and had no choice but to press on. It revealed how easily unbalanced the tide could become once an opponent was able to over-turn Mimasaka… and how inept Mimasaka truly was in the face of adversity. Well, a hundred easy wins meant complacency.

' _Should I ask how he did it?'._

Ginsekai was interrupted last time when he was about to reveal it all… No. She thought better of it. It was probably not a good topic to talk about while they were out. She'd find a way later. Erina silently grumbled. What should she talk about instead? What made good conversation? Ack! She was horrible at these things! The only person she felt comfortable talking to was Hisako… because Hisako was her only friend…The nerves that took refuge in her belly started to stir. No, no need to panic. In _shoujou manga,_ the heroine talked about her hobbies to start off. She could talk about that! But for the life of her didn't know what to say! Her life was all about studying, cooking and tasting. She didn't have any interesting hobbies… Then maybe she should focus back on his match from yesterday. Yes, that was probably the best for now before she found time to think about something else. Hmm… she could still ask him how he did it, but maybe she could go at it from a different angle? It was worth a shot.

" _The Jewel of the Sea",_ began Erina.

"Hmm?". He placed all his attention on her.

Erina almost fell into those wells of ocean blue. "U-Umm… The dish Mimasaka made. He was somehow led to believe that you'd be making that, so that means it was one of your original recipes. You purposely led him to it, didn't you. Why did you… _choose…_ that dish for him?".

Mitsunaga swallowed. The way his eyes flickered away meant he got her meaning. He took a sip of his tea and then put his cup down. He crossed his arms together and leaned it against the counter. His headphones inched forward on his neck and his ruffled fringe fell over his eyes.

"It's one of my favourites. The song it was based on is perfectly well-balanced and harmonised. The dish reflects that so—"

"Pardon the wait!".

The soft tap in front of her brought her eyes downwards. Various shades of red, crimson and scarlet shined radiantly before her on the duo-toned wooden platter, stealing her breath way.

"This is my _Fifteen Pieces of Kuromaguro Kodamazushi_ ", announched the _itamae._

Erina was stupified. They looked too beautiful to be _sushi!_ They were dainty, smaller than the average _sushi._ It was said that because the _geisha_ had to take care not to ruin their make-up while eating, the idea and creation of miniature _sushi_ dishes came about and that was why it was very common in _Kyoto._ Their beauty was brilliant like glittering jewels.

The techniques of _itamae no sushi_ were the epitome of divinity, which Erina had learned since young. They were masters in choosing the topping, preparing the vinegared rice, and the technique in moulding the _sushi_. To top it off, they had to bring out the individual flavour of each ingredient. It was a path so rugged that even a day's worth of walking wouldn't get a glimpse of the starting line. An identical platter was placed in front of Mistsunaga and he too ogled at the little garnet jewels. They were absolutely immaculate that even Alice's _temarizushi_ couldn't compare with the elegant simplicity.

" _Itadakimasu",_ said Mitsunaga.

Erina clapped her hands together and repeated after him. She lifted the first piece and placed it in her mouth.

"…!"

The _chuutoro,_ or medium grade fatty bluefin tuna, was so rich! Just quickly brushing the _sushi_ over the _nikiri,_ the _umami_ flavour came bursting forth. Erina didn't have enough time to savour it before she automatically swallowed her chewed morsel, in her haste to consume the tasty piece of _sushi._ Her palate cried out for another to take its place. Erina picked up the next and popped it into her mouth. This one was _akami._ The lean tuna had been marinated in _konbu,_ now the _umami_ of both tuna pieces were mixing together in her mouth creating such a sensuous and evocative massage on her tastebuds. Each chew and each lick of her tongue against the tuna flesh sent Erina to a world of elegant yet intense tuna flavours that only the top _itamae no sushi_ had ever brought her. Next was the _kamatoro._ The intense fat of the collar bone fatty tuna was utterly balanced by the refreshing vinegared rice, making it the finishing touch for the three, gently wrapping its flavour around the others and making her almost squirm in her seat. The _itamae_ had perfectly drawn out and capitalised on the deliciousness of each type of tuna for each piece. Erina was gobsmacked that such exquisite _sushi_ of such high calibre was crafted by this unknown _itamae._

So why had she never heard of _Kawamura Sushi!?_

"Good, huh?".

"It's… I-It's amazing!".

Erina completely forwent her dignity and culinary haughtiness. This platter deserved only _honesty._ This _sushiya_ was in the hands of one of the greatest _itamae no sushi_ that Erina had ever seen! She was absolutely confused as to why this master was hidden away in this place. The other _itamaes_ whom she had the fortune to taste their _sushi_ didn't compare to him and yet they won all of the awards, the 'Stars' and had food critics living in their pockets and elite guests living on their waiting list. They also owned and ran the most exclusive _sushi_ restaurants and _ryokans_ in Japan _._ It greatly bothered her that Mitsunaga knew about this place and _she_ didn't. Did he even realise?!

"It isn't just the tuna, it's the _sushi_ rice too", said Mitsunaga.

He was right. This wasn't just any ordinary _sushi_ rice. The _itamae_ used _akazu._ It was typical to use vinegar fermented from a blend of flour, rice, corn and the like, but _akazu_ was made from _sake_ lees left to ferment for an extended period of time. Although it was a traditional condiment that was born and became prevalent from so-called _edomae sushi,_ due to the fact that it took five to six years to make, these days it was treated as high-grade vinegar. That was how it was. More so than normal vinegar, _akazu_ had a less sugary content, resulting in a more mellow richness. Thanks to that, the _sushi_ rice didn't harden, maintaining a soft and fluffy finish. However in exchange, it stood to reason that even more delicate and skillful adjustments were required in order to achieve harmony with the fish and sharpness in the flavour.

"Is it to your taste _Ojou-chan_?".

Erina was in the middle of sipping her tea, cleaning her palate for the next piece in the set of the _fifteen pieces kuromaguro kodamazushi,_ when the _itamae_ faced them. He smiled at her widely.

"I don't understand…" Erina muttered.

"Hmm?". His lips drooped at the side and he cocked his head to her.

"The calibre of your _sushi…_ you belong in at least the top three _itamae no sushi_ in Japan! This sushi is on the level of at least two _Michelin Stars_ , but your _sushiya_ is hidden away and tucked into the unsightly side of town. Being a member of the Nakiri, I should know every top-rated chef in the world. Why is it that I've never heard of you?".

The _itamae_ wiped his hands on a fresh towel and he crossed his arms over his strong chest. He lowered his head and chuckled at her, but not in a patronising way. Erina waited with bated breath, silently beseeching his answer. It was a long chuckle-filled pause before the older man lifted his head and his warm dark brown eyes twinkled under the light.

"A Nakiri, you say? Well, I've never met any member of the esteemed gourmet food clan of Japan in all my years. I feel very blessed to have you dining in my _sushiya_. If you are up for listening to an old man's _story,_ then I shall tell you why". He said.

Erina blinked owlishly.

"I've had food critics come to my _sushiya_ in the past. The best and the most experienced, and believe me I was offered _Michelin Stars_. About six years in a row. However, I turned them all down".

"What? _Why?"._

"I don't believe on being judged by a select few. I am but a humble disciple to the art of _sushi_ making. I've spent forty years in making _sushi_ and even though many believe I've achieved complete mastery, I strongly disagree. I still have a ways to go. _Sushi_ making isn't something that could be fully understood even by the oldest and wisest being on the planet, I dare say only _Kami-sama_ himself could ever be a true judge of _sushi._ As long as my customers enjoy my _sushi_ and I continue to pour my being into learning all I can and making my _sushi,_ that is all I cherish. I have no need for awards or accolades and I definitely don't need a 'food critic' to tell me where my place is".

He said it like it was so simple.

Erina was left shaking in her core. The _itamae_ bowed to her and took on another customer's order. Erina looked around. This restaurant was nothing compared to the grand and spacious _sushiyas_ the Nakiri often reserved. She didn't know what to think. Here she was sitting in a place absolutely unknown to her, and she started to feel like she was the smallest thing.

"I kinda figured that you've never been to local places, since being a Nakiri and all, you only go to the pricy, top-rated restaurant recommended by critics and the gourmet ones with highly acclaimed chefs. So, I thought this might be a nice change of pace for you… for our umm… d-date", said Mitsunaga, clearing his throat at the end.

That was true…

He continued. "Good local restaurants typically have small signs, Japanese signs only. In most cases, they're hidden like in basement floors, the second floors or back-streets. They're never on the main-street and definitely don't have showy signs and pictures", said Mitsunaga.

"But this _sushiya_ doesn't even have a single sign at the front", said Erina.

"Most restaurants that target locals get customers by word of mouth. _Kawamura Sushi_ doesn't advertise and they don't even have a website. It's just the father and the son, and space in the city is limited. It's simply low-key gossip and their mad skills that keep this place rolling in money. Oh, and they're never interested in getting written about in gourmet guides either".

"Surely, word would've reached the Nakiri family about this place", said Erina.

"Only if the Nakiri cares to lower themselves enough to keep their ears to the ground".

Erina snapped her mouth shut and glared pointedly at Mitsunaga. He had the audacity to look sheepish and went back to his own platter as if apologetic he had a jab at her. A small part of her was glad that Mitsunaga took her to this place and the majority wanted to shriek at him for daring to fault her family. The conflicting schools of thought in her mind started to abate, but still present, as she looked around again. Customers came and went like clockwork. As soon as a set of customers had finished, paid and gone, another set would quickly fill their place. There were no gaps, like water constantly flowing gently through every crevice around the rocks.

' _There is never a lack of customers here'._

It was best to eat the _sushi_ fresh so Erina took another piece. It was a seared piece. Hearing the _itamae's_ story had uncontrollably roused her appetite. She was the _first_ Nakiri to eat here and felt something special about that claim. She put it in her mouth and it was incredible. The moment it entered her lips, the sheer energy of the ingredients surged forth in raging billowing waves! It was too late to evade and even if she could, she wouldn't want to. Erina and Mitsunaga silently ate together. Every piece was a marvel and Erina was being dazzled by the delectability, one at a time. It was a streamlined grand parade of _kuromaguro_ and what struck her the most was the overwhelmingly destructive power of the _nouten aburiyaki._ It was magnificently imbued with fire from the straw and pastoral grass that Erina had sensed it was lightly grilled over. Among all the parts of the tuna, the rare _tsunotoro_ was the highest class and most expensive. Its elegant fat rampaged along with the seared aroma, yet nary a whiff of the seafood smell. It was brilliantly scorched off by the straw fire, and only the pure fragrance remained to indulge the tongue and the nose.

"You were saying about the _Jewel of the Sea?_ What song is it based on? _",_ asked Erina.

A reward for showing her this hidden gem, she would allow him to talk about his videogame music with her just this once.

"Right! It's _**Dearly Beloved**_ from the game _**Kingdom Hearts Unchained X Union Cross**_ _"._

She was already losing her grip. Alright she could do this, she could bear with this.

" _Dearly Beloved_ from _that_ game was based on the original composition _Dearly Beloved_ from the very first **Kingdom Hearts** video game. I chose the _'Unchained Union cross'_ variation for Mimasaka. A _variation_ is when a musician takes a piece of music and changes it up, while still keeping the recognisable features of the original. For example, the rhythm could change, but the chord progression stays the same. Or the _tonality_ might switch to minor if it was originally a major. There could be different instrumentation for it too like the main melody being sung by a full choir, when the original was just a piano and violin duet. Some changes could be slight and others could be obvious and dramatic".

Erina nodded.

"The ' _Dearly Beloved'_ I used is totally different from the original. The original is very gentle, has sustained strings and piano with off-beat treble notes added to the main melody. It even has the sound of relaxing ocean waves. _Dearly Beloved_ from ' _Unchained Union Cross'_ begins in a similar way, but it changes when the cello solo comes in. Then it changes drastically when the beats per minute shoots from sixty to hundred and fifty. The leading instrument changes and there is a steady beat. The main melody introduced lots of extra notes and the cello plays a new _counter-melody_ which makes this variation really unique too. However it's still the same piece of music. It has the same time signature which is the simple quadruple time. It has the same overall _melodic counter_ and the same _chord progression_ underneath the main melody, specifically _A flat major, B flat major, E flat major_ and _C minor._ So anyway, since _Jewel of the Sea_ is based on a _variation,_ it means that the taste and balance of it is _very specific._ Any changes to it, whether they're 'improvements' or not dangerously throws it off balance".

Erina ate the last piece of her _sushi,_ wondering when he was going to get to the point. She didn't think Mitsunaga would get this specific in his explanation. He ploughed on.

" _Variations_ make the music more immersive and are used in the most emotional scenes in the game, and it makes it even more emotional than it already is. Like, when we hear a _theme_ for the first time, we automatically register that melody as being associated to an event or character. When the game changes, like the storyline gets darker, or if the character goes through a significant change, the _tonality_ , _contour_ , _chord progression,_ _time signature_ or _instrumentation_ might be different to fit with what's happening and enhance the mood. It really depends on what the composer is trying to achieve. When I composed my recipe, I've carefully matched it to _that_ specific _variation_ of _Dearly Beloved._ That's why Mimasaka couldn't do as well as he thought _"._

Erina couldn't understand it all, but she thought she'd got the underlying meaning. If every element in _Jewel of the Sea_ were so tightly bound together, where one couldn't be without the other or could be more or less than the other to create a perfectly _balanced_ and _harmonised_ taste… because it was structured on a song, then what could Mimasaka do more for it?

"So you're _also_ saying that Mimasaka didn't understand the music therefore he didn't understand the dish he was making either… that's why he lost?", asked Erina.

"I don't even think he listened to the song. But yeah, he had no bloody clue. He concentrated too much on the _parts_ of the dish and not the whole. He looked for things he _could_ do rather than think if he _should._ Mimasaka convinced himself that my recipe _has_ to change, _has_ to be different to be _better_ and so in everything he does, he _thinks_ it tastes better. Different doesn't mean better. It just means different. His ego blinds him. He failed to notice that every single little thing I've done were all interconnected with each other. His version still tasted delicious, I'd bet. But I know that when he changed the recipe, it lost a little something in it, something the judges detected in their hearts but not so much on their tongues".

Mitsunaga polished off his last morsel and wiped his fingers.

Erina slowly rotated her tea-cup in her hand. The soothing and low timbre of his voice washed over her ears as she calmly listened to him. His insight was surprising, bordering on scary. The warmth of the tea was mediocre now. In the end, Mimasaka didn't even have a chance at winning. The way Mitsunaga explained it made it sound like that the only way for a chef to _change_ any of his video-game music recipe, was that they had to understand the music behind it in the first place, and understand how it all fitted together. Erina found a hard time believing that. Surely if a chef was experienced and talented enough, they wouldn't need to listen to the music, they should be able to use their skill and culinary knowledge to deconstruct Mitsunaga's recipe and analyse every single element to show where it could be improved on, just like Mimasaka did. Maybe it was a question of experience and skill after all?

' _Mimasaka could replicate his techniques perfectly and even the recipe with additions… but I suppose he couldn't trace Mitsunaga's heart'._

Oh look at her… talking about philosophical nonsense. Erina exhaled and downed the rest of her tea. She was already down that road, she might as well keep going. She peeked at Mitsunaga from the corner of her eyes. His dark hair was ruffled as ever, sticking out about behind his ears and his fringe messily pushed back. Even the back of his raven hair was messy, but that was only because the scar at the back of the scalp stopped his hair from growing in the right direction. His tongue prodded and poked the inside of his cheeks to get the stuck _sushi_ rice. She noticed his pale skin, and the angle and sharpness of his jaw. His high cheekbones accentuated his feline like eyes, which observed acutely from behind thick lashes. Yes, he was handsome in his own way.

"You good?" he suddenly asked her.

"Oh, umm. Yes".

Mitsunaga raised his hand and one of the waitstaff stopped by and placed the bill face-down in front of him. Erina got up and thanked the chef who waved them off. She straightened out her school uniform, wholly satisfied with her _omakase_ afternoon treat. She _had_ to tell Hisako about this place. Once Mitsunaga was done with the bill, he led her back down the stairs, walking down first and every so often looking back at her as if he was afraid she'd trip and fall on him. It was already the late afternoon and Erina felt a bit chilly and weirded out about going back through the alleyway again to the main street. The movement in the shadows had Erina frozen until out darted the tortoise-shell cat. _Urgh!_ That scared her! The failing light had Erina's heart on hair-trigger mode. The daylight had dwindled to a barely perceptible lightening of the gloom between the tall buildings. Each wall of concrete was identical to the next. In the distance, she could see the winking lights of the night shops coming to life.

Mitsunaga took her hand.

His fingers automatically laced with hers without her doing anything, and Erina felt the skip in her heart at the implications of palms flushed together and fingers curling over each other in a secure embrace. His hands were so big.

"Wh-What now?", she asked. Were they done with their date?

He seemed to be thinking really hard about something. His cobalt blue eyes, glowing. He started walking from the same way they came. Erina tightened her grip on her book-bag and made sure to stick close.

"There's someone I want you to meet". He declared.

"Who?".

"The answer to _how_ I tricked Mimasaka".

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* * *

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.

.

" _Yare, Yare._ Mitsunaga, I didn't think you'd go for the heiress type".

Erina stood in the middle of a huge freaking attic. Or was it a run-down studio apartment? Either way, it looked very suspicious! She glanced worriedly to Mitsunaga and he looked annoyed but calm. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a pose she'd never seen him in before. Was he worried about something too? Erina looked around and took in the huge space. The wall, half wood and half gyprock, were lined with windows with all the blinds drawn. Right at the far wall was lined with computer screens and computer equipment, machines that blinked and flickered with a life of their own. Little character figurines lined the tops of some of the monitors; otherwise the desk space was only reserved for at least three different keyboards. Each keyboard was different from the other and had different shapes and coloured lights under the keys. The wires that spewed from the machines were all sorted and organised in bunches and zip-tied together, or against the skirting board of the room, or down the table legs.

One thing Erina noticed was that the place was _actually_ clean. _Too clean._ Not a speck of dust. She realised there was a sense of OCD-ness to the place.

And sitting right in the centre, facing them and on top of an over-sized wheeley chair that looked like a car seat was a young girl.

"Nakiri. This is one of my _NPCs._ The best cracker in _Honshu_ ".

"Cracker?", Erina echoed.

Mitsunaga had asked on the way if Ginsekai had told her anything about _The NPC Network_ and she had said she knew enough. He'd seemed relieved to not have to explain to her. Truthfully, Erina wouldn't want to hear it the second time around.

"Like a computer _hacker_ but more morally compromised. Seek and destroy". The Cracker replied.

"She's the one who intercepted Mimasaka at every turn. We've been planning this since he first requested a _shokugeki_ which was a week and a half ago. We got her to hack into his computer and phone and monitored everything he did, carefully doctoring things, setting up red-herrings, and corrupting his files on me. It's because of her that Mimasaka's investigation crapped out _"._

"It wasn't _that_ fun, really", drawled The Cracker.

The Cracker cocked her head to the side with a _'morally compromised'_ grin splitting her round face. She had a voice that pitched much lower than what was expected for her size, revealing that she was actually not an middle school brat, but probably their age. She had rich _latte_ coloured hair that reached just past her chin. They flicked and crimped near the ends, as if they were dried and splitting and didn't know if they wanted to stay straight or wavy. It gave her an avant-garde touch. Her fringe was parted in the middle and they framed her face, giving her forehead more attention, but shaping her rounded cheeks that made her look immature and impish as she sat languidly in her chair. The sharpness of her large, dark brown eyes were stinging as she looked at Erina up and down making her shiver. They were just as acute as Mitsunaga's except they seemed to _dig_ intrusively, as if she already knew everything about her and wanted more. She felt exposed under her judging gaze. Erina was tempted to intimidate her with her height at least, but something about The Cracker told Erina that she wouldn't be so easily moved by such a stunt. So she settled for scowling. Her words were very carefully articulated, almost mocking when she spoke and Erina felt butting heads with this slip of a girl was inevitable at some point this afternoon. The more she smirked at Erina, the more sinister she seemed to appear.

 _"Behave"._

Mitsunaga's deep and firm, but exasperated voice drowned the tension electrifying the room.

"Yes, yes. So you've come to deliver me my reward for that, right?".

Mitsunaga pulled out a clump of tissue paper from his book-bag with masking tape all over it and held it out.

The cracker flounced out of the chair to Mitsunaga. Erina eyes widened at her state of dress! She was tinier than she'd thought! At standing height, she was only up to Erina's chin. She wore a thick hooded jacket over her slim and petite body which looked two-sizes too big for her. It ate up her whole body. It was like her body was fully grown as any young teenager, but just wouldn't grow any taller. Her sleeves took over her hands and the cuffs flapped and waved as she walked. She wore a pair of shorts that showed off her thin but toned legs and her shorts often disappeared under the hem of her hooded jacket. She was also barefooted, which Erina thought was probably fine as the wooden floor was devoid of any dirt or dust to stick to her soles.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this~".

The Cracker took the clump of tissue paper and hastily ripped it apart, but carefully keeping the wrappings in her hands. She inspected it amongst the fluffy nest thoroughly before nodding in satisfaction at Mitsunaga. Something light tickled her nose. It smelt like jasmine and vanilla. Erina didn't get a good look at what it was as The Cracker cackled gleefully and rushed to the other side of the room and pulled open a drawer from one of the shelves that lined the other wall. She deposited her _reward_ and came back to them. The scent continued to follow her.

"I have another _quest_ for you", said Mitsunaga.

"What is it?" She settled back into her ridiculous seat.

"Put Nakiri on your watch-list too".

"E-Excuse me, what?!".

Erina rounded on him so fast, her long hair slapped him across the face. Mitsunaga spluttered and rubbed his hand over his cheeks, as if he'd been sent to the afterlife and back. She stared up at him with incredulity and shock. That statement reeked of suspicious activities. Mitsunaga probably sensed he was about to get in trouble _very much_ if he didn't start explaining right this instance, so he cleared his throat quickly.

"I-I thought since we're d-dating, there'll be people who would wanna piece of this and spin it into something bad. Things like rumours, photos and videos taken without our permission getting posted on the internet and stuff to… get at you and your family".

' _Because I'm a Nakiri…'_

That was the subtext beneath it all.

Mitsunaga had a point there. Erina bit her lip. Holding the title of the Nakiri Heiress meant she was often under scrutiny from all the circles of the food industry, and the noble clans of Japan. Her influence was nothing to make a joke of which meant she had an image to uphold and there was _absolutely_ no room for unflattering rumours, or incriminating photos and videos of her spending private time with a wild-card like Mitsunaga. Her name was pretty widespread and one utterance of it instilled fear and reverence from almost all chefs. Completion of all her noble tasks diligently and perfectly to please her school and family would be heavily compromised if anything were to happen to her image and credibility in her representation. Lips were always busy and ears were always curious in high society.

"Adding Nakiri-san huh? Well that makes five. Sure. I'll message you what I want for a _reward_ when I think of it. Have a seat!".

The Cracker snapped her fingers and pranced out of her chair. She patted the seat and rudely crooked her finger at Nakiri to come over. Erina huffed and pursed her lips. She didn't budge. She glared at Mitsunaga. It was his turn to blush as he coughed again and covered his mouth with his fist.

"I promised that I wouldn't let anything get to you, and this is the best way to do it. You can trust her. She's the best and she's my _NPC._ She won't do anything that would put us in a bad way".

"She does illegal things on the computer!" Erina hissed.

"She cracks to defend small businesses and other _NPCs_ on _The NPC Network._ Remember she's bound to _The Guild_ too".

"How do you know she wouldn't turn on you or _The Guild?_ You heard her, she said she was 'morally compromised'".

"She's just being glib. Besides, _The Guild_ has saved her arse many times over and we regularly do _quests_ for her. She needs us as much as we do".

Erina frowned. This was getting so messed up. His eyes implored her and urged her to take his offer. He sounded like he would even trust The Cracker with his _life_. This was nuts!

"First, tell me what this is going to involve?" Erina crossed her arms and backed away from Mitsunaga, squaring him with her defiant eyes.

"I can better explain!"

The Cracker came back from somewhere and was holding a long mechanical hand-held machine in her sleeve and a microphone.

"We use facial and voice recognition. So basically, I'm gonna take a voice sample from you and I'm gonna scan your face. I did the same to the other _Guild_ members a while back when they first started. I add that to my database. Whenever something comes up on the internet, like social media and all that jazz, that's to do with your face in a photo, face in a video, voice in a video. My special software will know immediately. It's function is to hunt and find anyone I want, anywhere at anytime on the internet. It calculates it's hacking and accesses any electronic sources such a smartphones and computers that uploaded them in the first place. I get alerted based on the bio-matches and I decide if it looks suss, shitty or anything… and I'm guessing you wouldn't want any photos that contain the _both_ of you to be seen together… I destroy all traces of the evidence from the internet as well as trace back to where the image originally came from. I'll also _camp_ and infiltrate any back-up devices the perpetrator's got to make sure they have no back-up copies, and I chase it up to whoever it gets sent to as well".

"Once the photo is put on the internet, other people would already see it, right? That would be too late", said Erina.

"The idea is to stop the spread as soon as it happens. Once I've deleted all traces, whatever rumour it incites about you two will die completely. Remember, I also monitor when your _name_ appears too. I'll shut down that shit if it mentions you and Mitsunaga. We live in an age of _'Pics-or-it-didn't happen'_ which is nice".

Erina sighed. She had two people sitting on her shoulders. One was whispering that this was actually a good idea, she wouldn't worry about her family's reputation or her image being ruined by rumour-mongers and ill-wishers. She would be protected by Mitsunaga's _NPC._ She could freely date him without the fear of being talked about on the internet and photos of her to spread through the treacherous waters of social media. Gossip behind her back would be ultimately unsubstantiated and dismissed without proof. The other voice in her head said this was a big mistake. What The Cracker did behind closed doors was _illegal_ , and who knew what else she was capable of. She couldn't be trusted. She could do anything with Erina's voice sample and her facial scans and there was nothing Erina could do about it. When the two inner voices had stated their positions, they turned to Erina for decision. The two answers struck significant chords but only one could be chosen.

Erina turned to Mitsunaga.

"Do you trust her?".

"Absolutely".

Erina sighed again. Mitsunaga reached his hand up and brushed a stray lock behind her ear. He dipped his head to look at her nervous face and gave her what she interpreted as a crooked re-assuring smile. She rolled her eyes and as good as his fingers felt lingering in her hair, she pushed his hand away and stalked over to The Cracker.

She sat in the chair and crossed her legs. The Cracker got to work. When Erina was done with the surprisingly quick process she got up and The Cracker reclaimed her seat. She suggested they start a preliminary sweep of the popular social media sites and message boards, and the smartphones within the town first just to check. Leaning back, the petite girl stared at the contrasting white mixed against black as all these coded language and numbers ran. Erina didn't know what to make of this bizarre world of computers. The jungle of algorithms and rapid fire pop-up windows played a laser show on The Cracker's eyes. She hummed an indistinct small tune as if the task was easy and boring. Her eyes combed every monitor in search for whatever she was looking for and moved rapidly up down, side to side like the eyes of going through REM sleep.

Just as Mitsunaga leaned over the other side of the desk to do his own checking, his phone suddenly went off.

 _Bi-bi- bi- bi… bi- bi- bi- bi-… bi- bi- bi- bi-_

"Excuse me for a minute".

He spun around and took the call from the other end of the room. He threw a glance back at Nakiri as if to check with her but she wrinkled her nose at him. He was already on the other side for goodness sakes! Nothing could be heard in the apartment except Mitsunaga's quiet chattering and the light taps of fingers against a lit up keyboard and the unbearable spin of a small fan sitting behind the desk, blowing at the back of the machines. In the air, the scent of hot electronics and the lingering fragrance of the jasmine and vanilla scented _reward_ hung.

"Relax. I'm not gonna do anything to you and your little family that would send the police after me".

Erina straightened up and blushed. "I-I didn't say anything!".

"It's written all over your face".

The Cracker's concentrating eyes didn't break from the screen and Erina reached to touch her cheeks, as if checking for herself would validate the point. They felt a bit hot, but there was a tightness indicating that she'd been grimacing the entire time.

"If it makes you feel any better, Mitsunaga's _probably_ protecting himself just as much as he's protecting you".

Erina's blood ran cold.

"What… do you mean… protecting himself? Protect from _what_?".

She thought this was about _her!_

The tapping ceased. It was like the noose was placed over the conversation and the hangman was about to pull the leaver. Her heart started to beat harder and it was increasingly frightening the way The Cracker went completely still and silent. Small fingers poised mid-air and she transformed into a mannequin. The first thing to move was her eyes, slowly rolling to her periphery as she pinned Erina with a hard stare from the corners. She slowly spun from her waist to face her, her arms and fingers locked into place as she turned from mannequin to a creepy possessed doll.

"Oh… _He_ _didn't tell you about his family_ …".

"What about his family?". Erina demanded.

The Cracker held her hands up in mock surrender and shook her head. She returned back to the keyboard and continued her task.

"Sorry, Nakiri-san. If he hasn't said anything, then I'm not gonna touch the _source code_ on this one".

"Who is his family? Does it have anything to do with why he stopped being a classical musician? Do you know anything about that?".

Erina slammed her palm on the desk and demanded again, the girl at the computer. She spat out the questions as fast as rain hitting the ground. One of the little figurines rattled out of its perch and The Cracker was quick to move it back into place, exactly the way it was before she resumed typing away.

" _I know everything about Mitsunaga"_

Erina reared back and sucked in her breath. The ominous and heavily loaded tone did something mean to her. There was a surge of worry and fear, originating from the more primitive part of her brain. Something like a fissure cracked up between her and Mitsunaga, and just when they started going out too! What sort of secrets were Mitsunaga hiding from her? What was so bad about him, that he wouldn't tell her anything, saying that it was _locked_ from her and yet, some _cracker_ was the other person who had all the information? Erina felt frustration and anger prickling the back of her eyes. She was quickly getting fed up with this.

"There must be _something_ , you could tell me".

"Why don't you ask him yourself?".

"I did. But he wouldn't".

"Can't help you there".

Erina growled, actually _growled!_ She'd never growled in her life! Groan and huffed, yes, but not growled. She suppressed her frustration and pushed it away as far as it would go. She pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten, waiting for her ire so subside. No, she shouldn't be taking it out on The Cracker. She was likely to be operating under Mitsunaga's wishes, so she punched the mental image of Mitsunaga in her head instead.

"Look", sighed The Cracker. "You won't do him or yourself any favours by digging up something personal that Mitsunaga is adamant to keep buried. Are you worried that he won't be the same guy you thought he was, once you know? Or are you trying to write a best-seller, tell-all book…".

"No! I just…", Erina licked her lips. "I just don't think r-relationships should have s-secrets", stuttered Erina.

"Urgh… Who the hell gave you _that_ advice… When he's ready, he'll tell you and he won't leave anything out".

The Cracker dragged out the last part of her response trying to make a point. Erina was flabbergasted and her naivete for all things to do with romance seemed glaringly obvious and immature in the face of this brusque girl. She deflated. Judging by the low lights coming in through the thin slats of the blind, it was approaching evening now.

"…Did he do something terrible?", Erina sighed, her voice falling flat and quiet.

Either she'd tell her or not, Erina didn't have anything to lose in asking. As predicted, The Cracker didn't say a word. Mitsuanga was still on the phone, oblivious to what was taking place over on her end. Erina resigned and turned her head away.

"It really bothers you huh… Alright then, say, if he _did_ …", The Cracker pushed back into her seat and turned to Erina seriously, "…just remember that the villain is just a victim whose story hasn't been told… and _we all_ become the story that everyone wants to _only_ hear… whether we like it or not".

Erina slowly looked to The Cracker. She focused on her eyes. They weren't just dark brown. They were a deep, earthy brown, the colour of the earth after torrential rain. But there was something else in them, something glistening. They glistened like an old copper coin being examined in the warmth next to powerful flames. They held _secrets…_ and knowledge that went beyond all this for a face so young and so child-like. The dark liquidy eyes held so tightly onto Erina, transmitting something that she couldn't grasp, but instinctively knew was important. She had a deep sense of _de ja vu_ for some odd reason. The silence stretched and The Cracker held her gaze for a long drawn moment before resuming her work. Nothing on the screens seemed to cause alarm in her, so Erina felt it was safe to say that nobody took pictures of her and Mitsunaga at school or on the streets.

That was all Erina was going to get.

"Anyway! I think the _only real reason_ why Mitsunaga wanted to come to me for your cyber-protection is just the simple fact that you're his _girl~friend~_ and he's being an over-protective dorky- _boy~friend~_ and I'm _the best!"._

Erina wanted to keel over and die. Being labelled as someone's girlfriend left a weird and icky feeling in her that was both ridiculous and gross. Simultaneously, there was a tingling in the pits of her stomach that had her roiling in some deep-seated pleasure that spread to her hammering heart at the thought of being Mitsunaga's _girlfriend_. If she looked into a mirror, she'd see that her face was aflame. The more innate part of her wished that The Cracker's word was the gospel truth.

Erina looked over her shoulder to see where Mitsunaga was up to in his phone conversation. He seemed to be still in the middle of something that seemed important, she could hear words like _'marron'_ so that meant he was discussing about his match coming up in ten days. Her eyes soften when they landed on the back of his head. Then her eyes roved to the drawer imbedded in the shelf that The Cracker was fussing over to find a spot to put in her _reward_ from Mitsunaga. It had a really pleasant fragrance and Erina couldn't get enough of it. It permeated the air for a good amount of time, strong but not too overwhelming. Its notes were deep and layered. Was it some rare and expensive scented soap? She was really curious.

"That package that Mitsuanga-kun, gave you. What is it?", asked Erina. "It smells nice".

"Does it now" The Cracker drawled. _**"I didn't even notice".**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

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 _ **Hinokuni Shoutengai**_

' _Maybe introducing Nakiri to her was a little too soon'._

The heiress' hand was kind of limp in his as they walked down the _shoutengai._ Her eyes had a glaze over it as she walked side by side with him through the beautiful shopping district of _Hinokuni Shoutengai._

They'd just gotten off the bus in the next town and were strolling around. The whole thing about taking public transport together was kind of funny because it'd never occur to Yozora that she _didn't_ have a pre-paid IC card! Well of course, he'd mentally smacked his forehead for overlooking such an 'duh' realisation. She rode limousines everywhere with her personal chauffeur and all long-distance travel fares were taken cared of on her behalf. Nevertheless, Yozora was ecstatic to buy her, her very own IC card and happily loaded it with two thousand yen. He explained to Nakiri how she could put credit in it when the money ran out, tap it on the sensors, and pay her travel fares, no muss, no fuss. She thought the piece of rectangular plastic for daily living was her most alien discovery for all year. She'd thought people still bought individual tickets. Kind of true, but that wasn't the point. The naiveté made him smile way too much which earned him another hit on the shoulder. Nakiri fighting to suppress her reaction and taking it out on him was so adorable. She'd flat-out told him that she'd keep the card _only_ so his two thousand yen wouldn't be wasted. It only made him grin wider.

When the novelty wore off, Nakiri grew quiet again, barely talking to him and only nodding and offering small comments here and there, but not much conviction behind her words. The afternoon sun shone off her silky golden strands, casting her in a soft halo, making her seem more un-reachable than she normally was. It did make him a little concern and then he figured that she just needed some quiet time to absorb everything. It was their first real date after all. Then Yozora thought maybe it was the _NPC_ they've just visited. Was it a mistake to bring Nakiri to her so early on? She was usually a chatterbox and an obnoxious one at that. She could also be a bit of a handful at times and rub people up the wrong way…

' _Nah, Nakiri wouldn't get hung up over someone like that… maybe… bollocks. I don't know"._

Yozora hoped that there might be a store that caught her eye, or a bookshop or even an accessory store for her to buy little tokens for her precious Arato. Nakiri passed by them without sparing a glance, absorbed in her own world. He wished he knew what was on her mind. Should he ask about it or leave her to ponder her perplexed thoughts? He had the sinking feeling that if he asked, she'd deflect it. Yozora chewed on the inside of his cheeks getting the gears in his brain to work.

' _I need something to distract her…'_

This particular _shoutengai_ was one of his favourites. It was longer and wider than most. Seas of high-school students from different districts came through here for the variety of stores that lined the popular street. Yozora really liked the liveliness, the colour, and vibrancy that pulsated from the hearts of the people that worked and lived in the _shoutengai._ The best part of it… was what was at the _end_ of the _shoutengai._

"Hey Nakiri, are you up for something sweet?".

"Hmm?" she turned to him, finally.

"I was thinking that I can make you a dessert. You've never had anything I've made before", said Yozora.

"Now?".

Nakiri's eyes widened. Her big, beautiful amethyst orbs glowed in the dimming afternoon rays, completely enthralling Yozora. He twitched to reach out and brush her locks away from them, but he curbed it. Her lips opened slightly in an 'o' shape before settling back into deep thought. Rosiness tinted her cheeks as she was in the midst of making her decision for his offer.

"Where are you going to make it?". She asked, dubiously.

"My place isn't too far from here".

"Y-Your place?!" she shrieked.

Nakiri ripped her hand from his and back-pedaled like her life depended on it. The cool air hitting his palm made him feel cold, empty and bereft without Nakiri's to fill it and he missed that. Yozora instantly reached out, intent to grab her hand back to stop her from bumping into people, but thankfully he didn't need to as Nakiri regained her senses and footing, and stopped. His stomach dropped as soon as he saw the jitteriness and uneasiness in her posture. Her beautiful eyes gaped at him and her lips working to say something, but quivered in fear. Oh no… too soon again? Now that he thought about it, they'd be _alone_ together. No Hayato-kun as he was sleeping over at Polar Star to introduce them to their first _Dungeons and Dragons campaign_. It'd be just the _two_ of them. He had no qualms about that, but Nakiri definitely did. _Now_ he started seeing the implications… yeah he messed up big time. He could kick himself. She'd probably hate him now. Before he could retract his offer, she stepped back towards him and stabbed her finger to his face. Yozora backed up from the tempestuous heiress, his heart racing and panicky. Self-preservation instincts made his eyes cross in an effort keep track of her finger in case she intended to really poke his eye out.

"F-Fine". Nakiri stuttered. "But when we reach your apartment, you better not lay a finger on me! Got it?!".

"R-Roger".

"S-So are we getting on the bus again?".

Before he could answer, Nakiri spun on her heels again and stalked off back towards the same bus station. Yozora recovered before softly smirking and shook his head. Ah, the adventures they'd have together… He caught up with her in three quick strides and grabbed her hand. He tugged her back easily and she twirled around, unsteady on her feet and bumped straight into his chest. His other arm swung up to curl around her back, keeping her against him nice and secure. The cute yelp from her stroked the small fire that had always been present for Nakiri and he continued to smirk down at her as she spluttered and pushed off of him. The whiff of her lavender and honey shampoo graced his nose and the heat of her breath warmed his collar bone.

"I need to get fresh ingredients for your dessert first. So we're going _that-a-way_ ". Yozora jutted his thumb in the other direction.

"Where's that?"

"A place called _Konohagakure no Ichiba…_ 'The Hidden Leaf Markets'".

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* * *

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 _ **Konohagakure no Ichiba – 'The Hidden Leaf Markets'**_

' _We're going back to his place! We're going back to his place! We're going back to his place! We're going back to his place! We're going back to his place! We're going back to his place!'._

Why did she agree to this?! Erina refused to hold his hands this time. All the reasons not to do this came flooding in, as if her body chemistry just sent them a blanket invitation. She felt the soft panic growing and then fading back and forth. The thoughts swirl into a vortex of unbecoming shyness and that snapped her right back to being herself. She was a strong and independent woman! No, no backing out! She made her decision; she would go back to his place for _dessert._ Nothing more. This was just an opportunity she'd humour him to sample and critique his videogame music dish. So really, she could go about this like a taste-testing appointment, even if he was her boyf—

"Here it is!"

The sound of Mitsunaga's booming voice pulled her from the deep recesses of her mind. So this was _The Hidden Leaf Markets?_ She could barely see anything because of the people crowding in their way. Erina wrinkled her nose. Never heard of it. It also sounded like another shady place to be in. Mitsunaga looked quite excited to show her so she would humour him, yet again. The hustle and bustle grew as they were getting further and further into the back of the _shoutengai._ The main street was starting to get hotter from the combined body-heat and the noise level started to rise into a festive din. The trees in front of them towered and almost blocked out the evening skies, tinged with deep orange and maroon.

' _How in the—'._

Finally, they broke free of the crowd. Erina was struck by the inexplicable vitality of the large open space at the end of the _shoutengai._ The bottle neck exit spilled out into a disarraying maze of stalls and tents of all shapes and sizes. How could she not tell that such a thing existed?! A quick inspection behind her revealed the markets were in the middle of a huge park. It was surrounded by tall trees, their heavy and ancient branches thick with bronze and brown foliage that it perfectly hid the markets from view. Along the darkening paths shone hundreds of silk lanterns, illuminated with their flickering candles. The light was cast every colour by the coloured silk. Erina couldn't help but be reminded of _konpeito_ candy. Everywhere there were people from children to the elderly in their Autumn garbs, jackets and scarves. To add to the gaiety, the children were holding mini lanterns themselves and they glowed like little fireflies.

Evening had descended upon them fast and the cold finally bit at her. She'd never been out this late before.

Mitsunaga took the lead again, her hand also. He pulled Erina close behind. She stumbled after him, with her mind buzzing with every normal thought and worry banished from her mind. She breathed in deep. The air smelled of fresh produce and the air tasted so heavenly with the chefs alongside the park walkways, their delicious street-food ready to be bought and shared by friends and families.

" _The Hidden Leaf Markets_ open up every evening from six o'clock all the way to two in the morning!", Mitsunaga called out from in front of her. "It's great for people, chefs and restaurateurs who wanna do late night shopping for their ingredients, rather than wake up early to do it!".

The fresh and earthy odour of the trees mingled with nose-tingling aroma of spices and the sweet smell of fruits coming from the numerous fruit vendors. All these smells mixed together gave the market a rather unique scent, which hung in the air like a comforting blanket. Erina had never been to a market like this before! Market stalls and vendors lined the route, and Mitsunaga paused for a moment to inspect one of the fruit stalls. Erina paused for a moment too, to survey the flamboyant scene and observed the milling throng. Couples strolled hand in hand, casually browsing, whilst housewives hustled and bustled and haggled over the price of the exotic fruits and other imported produce with vendors of different nationalities. Just like he said, chefs still in their uniforms were discussing with the marketeers.

It was a melting pot. The globe was literally hidden in this park!

"Do you wanna choose the fruits for me?".

"What?" Erina had to lean in to hear him.

Mitsunaga bent down, with his lips to her ear. _"Do you want to choose the fruits for me?"._

Erina shuddered from the heat of his breath tickling the side of her head. She ducked away as soon as she got the message and eyed him in fickle annoyance. She looked to the stalls, at the mess of fruits and vegetables piled in their boxes next to each other. It seemed dirty to do such a thing in the markets, everyone's probably had their hands all over them. Then she remembered this was just only the opening time. It didn't matter! Who knew what they touched and wear they've been! What were the conditions of the packing? How far did the produce travel to get here? Produce had always been pre-chosen _for_ Erina. As the heiress of the Nakiri and the chef possessing the _God's Tongue,_ only the best sourced by _Tootsuki_ from their trusted contracts and producers across Japan were laid out before her in her very own pantry like gifts from dignitaries. All perfect, top quality and fresh fruits and vegetables just for her had to be available twenty-four-seven. It was _only_ then that Erina did her own choosing by her own hands, amongst them and culled the rest. She could only cook with only the _best_ of the _best_ ingredients.

But never had the Nakiri Princess had to choose fruit _directly_ from the market. And because of that… there was an element of thrill that she was here with Mitsunaga in this yet, _another_ unknown treasure trove of all these fresh fruits and vegetables of the local and exotic kind. Erina blushed hard. The idea of choosing _for_ Mitsunaga so that he could make a dessert _for_ her did seem a… pleasing idea…

"I'm only doing it because you asked. I'm probably better at choosing them than you are anyway". Erina huffed.

She leaned over and inspected the fruits. Well, they did look fresh, bright and were very fragrant.

"Custard apples, guavas and strawberries".

Erina shuddered violently. Close! He was standing too close! Mitsunaga hovered right behind her as he craned his head over her shoulder easily. He was inspecting the fruits too. Despite the cool metal of his headphones brushing her left ear, the curve of his neck could easily cradle her face. The searing heat of his firm chest almost touching her back sent her mind crashing with indescribable anticipation for something wildly inappropriate and her traitorous heart beated for it! Her body felt almost caged against the fruit stall and adrenaline coursed through her arteries and she bit her lip to hold down her whimper. The anxiety was quickly squelched down when his light and tantilizing citrus deodorant mingled with his musky scent caressed her nose. She didn't know whether it soothed her or made her crazier. It was then she realised that Mitsunaga was telling her what fruits he wanted that she sprang into action to get away. The old fruit vendor handed her a paper bag for her to put her fruits in and she took it from him with a small nod. Mitsunaga had stepped back a little bit but was still close as he looked around at other things. Erina took a deep breath to calm her rampaging heart.

Since Mitsunaga was going to make the dessert tonight, he'd want the ripe ones. Erina found the guavas. When she reached over to touch the pale green fruits, they were firm and gave it a squeezed. They yielded to her nicely. Then she gingerly brought it to her nose and their sweet fragrance and piney under-note was good and so she placed a few of them in the bag. She took another paper bag and went around the other side to where the custard apples were. Erina also went for the paler green ones and made sure they were slightly soft in her hand. The gnarly and bumpy fruit was also sweet and fragrant. Erina didn't feel as disgusted as she'd thought as she carefully sifted through the fruits, looking for the perfect ones for her dessert. She turned to the strawberries and picked up a punnet. She turned it upside down, one by one, and checked for any bruising and blemishes but she only found plump, deep-red shining fruits.

Wholey satisfied, Erina brought them over to the fruit vendor. The old man, put on his eye-glasses and weighed them, Mitsunaga instantly appeared next to her and procured a bunch of folded up _yen_ notes from his pocket. Once they were done with the transaction, he took the fruits from Erina, and they made their way out of the teeming market.

"So what do you think of this place?"

"N-Not bad"

He grinned and Erina hit him.

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* * *

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 _ **Seirinchou**_

"Make yourself at home"

Erina stood in the middle of the living room. His apartment looked exactly as Hisako described. Everything was state of the art from technological to furnishings. How did his family afford this place?! They were in the more affluent part of town and it just really didn't suit Mitsunaga, especially with the way he behaved like a commoner and hung around Yukihira like it was nothing. As expected his gaming-related things were everywhere and Erina scoffed at them. It felt very lived in as there were knick-knacks, bits and pieces strewn about here and there. Two boys living in the same apartment meant tidiness was a seldom occurrence. To be honest, it wasn't too messy. Just… homey…

Erina gingerly sat on the plush leather couch. Mitsunaga had bought her a can of hot coffee from the vending machine on their way here and she still nursed it in her hands. It was nothing like The Barista's, but it was just something warm to sip. She placed her book-bag beside the couch. Hisako said they had a grand piano too. Erina leaned back to look for it and her breath was taken away by the sight of the majestic instrument in the alcove just beyond, where the taller windows were. It dominated the hexagonal space, its ebony black body bold against the pale blue wall and white-framed windows. It stood in a world of its own, very distant and untouchable from the rest of the gaming artefacts in the common living space.

' _Like his classical music past… separate from his current life as a videogame chef'._

A soft beat dropped into the air… then another and another. Erina turned back around and found Mitsunaga hunched down towards the speakers and his phone was standing in a dock. He had forgone his school blazer, tie and headphones. Erina's jaw slackened. He looked to casual! She bit her lip when he stood up. The bare column of his pale neck dipping into the unbuttoned collar of his school shirt made her lips twitch and her eyes locked onto it. He slouched his shoulders and briefly closed his eyes as the synthetic beats of music glided through the air until her skin thrummed along with it.

"This is _**Track 30** , _which is your dessert" he turned towards her.

Erina's breath hitched as he looked upon her with a smouldering glint behind those deep and dark blue depths. His alabaster skin glowed in the soft lighting of the apartment, like the moon rays through the fog. His soft lips were curled up in one corner, creating a bubbling sensation to pool in Erina's lower belly. Oh she felt something tingling in a place that shouldn't be…

"Just relax and have a rest, Nakiri. Gimme about two hours. I promise you, it'll be worth the wait".

"You sound very confident in yourself" Erina murmured, pinching her lips together and pulling herself up straighter.

He chuckled lowly. The crisp breaks in his voice at the base of his throat heated her cheeks.

"Only that it'll be nothing you've ever tasted before. Whether you think it's good or not, will determine if I get to wake up the next day with the will to live".

Erina flushed hard. His joke encased her heart, and it conjured up a powerful feeling that helped to smooth out her frazzled nerves. Erina peeked a glance and found that Mitsunaga was already in the small kitchen pulling the ingredients he needed together. She blushed heavily. The beats of the music wasn't entirely clear, but there was a strong rhythm of some sort. It leaned towards bass as she felt it in her chest, more so than hearing it in her ears. It had a futuristic edginess which she was unfamiliar with and surmised this followed the trendy 'techno music' she'd overheard from one of Ginsekai's and Mitsuanga's many conversations on music. It wasn't as if she was interested! They talked loudly! Nevertheless, it was nice and soothing. How could it be techno music if there were classical instrumentations in it too? It was confusing, but again… it was still nice and calming, easing the tension in her thinking and her muscles. It was light and interwoven with soft and echoing chimes of piano gently scaling up and down, each run was different to the last. There were also some slow violins that filled in all the gaps perfectly while the beat continued to control her heartbeat. Erina leaned back into the soft backrest, her half-drunk can of hot coffee was now lukewarm and on the coffee table. She couldn't place her finger on it, but this piece of music was doing something to her chest and head… calming… soothing… oh so tranquil. Her eyes turned towards the ceiling and…

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* * *

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"Hey, wakey wakey".

She groaned. What? Upon waking, Erina burrowed herself into the warm and firm pillows to her left. She breathed in a noseful of sugar and fruit, and slowly her brain started to switch on but only halfway. Her hair tickled her face as they skimmed her skin. She leaned up and fumbled her hands onto the moving pillow that was—

Moving pillow?

Waking up was no longer the pleasure it was. Her eyes snapped open violently as if she'd been woken up wailing sirens. Icy cold buckets of stark realisation threw her into a panic as she scooted away as fast and far as she could from the grinning countenance of her host reclining on the couch seat beside her. His lanky arm was hitched over the backrest and one of his ankles rested on his knee while the other hand's fingers drummed against his tight. He was turned slightly towards her as he regarded her with great amusement in his eyes. Oh _Kami-sama..._ How long had she been out like a light for?!

"I said not to touch me!", Erina shrieked, grabbing the _actual, real_ couch cushion to her chest.

"I swear I didn't!"

Mitsunaga threw his arms up in surrender, but his ridiculous and poorly concealed smile spoke volumes of how much he wasn't taking her seriously and found her humiliation of great amusement. His lopsided grin was shattering under the pressure of the laugh that threatened to spill from his lips. He didn't mean to make fun of her, she could tell by the look of mild shock on his face, and by his cheeks that flushed pink. However that didn't change the fact that she had fallen asleep so disgracefully on his couch in his home, _utterly vulnerable_ in a unfamiliar place with only Mitsunaga! The internal heater of her system continued to melt her insides. Her pale skin turned from a ghastly white to a shade of ripe strawberries like the ones she chose at the market. Her heart thumped rapidly, triggering her fight or flight syndrome should Mitsunaga make another move in her direction.

"It's alright, look, hands where you can see them" He wiggled his fingers for effect.

Erina forced herself to calm down. She quickly pulled her phone from her skirt pocket and texted Kenta-san to pick her up from Mitsunaga's address in about an hour. Then she pocketed her phone again. There, she would have one less worry on her head now. It wouldn't do for her to keep making a fool of herself in his presence. Erina slapped on her façade and shuffled back onto her seat cushion. The only difference was the vast space between the two. She pressed her thighs tightly together and pulled the hem of her skirt a far as it would go and smoothing over the surface. She shot Mitsunaga a last glare, warning him not to say anything or _do_ anything that would earn him another punch to the shoulders, or being _dumped._

She looked to the coffee table, at the two glasses of dessert presented before her.

"What is this?" she cleared her throat.

"I call it _**Snow Egg".**_

Mitsunaga shifted to face the coffee table too, is knees spread slightly apart as he leaned to rest his elbows on him. All that in two hours? It was a simple looking dessert and from what Erina already knew, Mitsunaga's dishes were _never_ simple, a far cry from Yukihira. His two identical desserts were housed in a set of round whiskey tumblers. At the bottom was a layer of rippled pink and pale yellow. It filled the bottom of the glass, beautifully displayed like expensive marble or marbled-oil painting that swirled along the concave glass. The swirl effect was so organic and evenly distributed. The light, pastel colours of the unmistakable pink guava and the custard-looking cream of the bottom promised a sweet, creamy and richness just waiting to melt on her wanting tongue. On top was a fluffy layer of petal-pink ice shavings, its crystalline shine under the lighting was incredibly pretty as it refracted shards of light _._ Right in the centre of the snow sat a perfectly round ball, dusted with ice-white icing sugar. It was Mitsunaga's egg resting in the icy snow. The _Snow Egg._ The simplicity of it astounded Erina for it had its own unique charm and a wonderful mystifying air to it. What was inside the egg? She would call it a 'snow sphere' more than anything else, but it didn't make it any less graceful.

"So uh…" Mitsuanga cleared his throat. "The first layer at the bottom is the _**strawberry-guava**_ _**fool**_ _._ It's a strawberry and guava puree folded through with a vanilla custard cream. Next is the _**strawberry-guava granita**_ ,and then the _**snow egg**_ on top, in the middle. It's a _**poached meringue**_ filled with _**custard-apple ice-cream**_. The whole thing is wrapped in a _**maltose tuile**_ which I blowtorched onto the meringue egg, then dusted it with icing sugar".

He said it like he was rattling of an errand list, the nervousness evident in his rushed explanation. Erina felt eyes on her, searing her temple, as if waiting for her to say something and hang onto her every word. She couldn't speak. Erina continued to stare at it in wonder, even without tasting, she _ate_ it with her eyes and could already anticipate what was to come. The _maltose tuile_ represented the eggshell and the poached meringue was egg-white. Finally the custard-apple ice-cream was the yolk in the middle. It truly was an egg in all its layers. It was refined and delicate, sitting alone surrounded by perfect snow. Mitsunaga's artistic and creative flair truly knew no bounds. The music continued to suffuse the air, happy to swirl in the background, calm and relaxing.

Just like the simple _snow egg_ on its bed of snow.

"Here". Mitsunaga handed her a dessert spoon.

She gulped and took it, along with her glass in her hand. She hovered the spoon above the opening, above the snow egg. Knowing that Mitsunaga made this for her whetted her appetite in ways she never knew it could be _whetted_. Logic said, there was only one way to eat this and for the first time in her life she didn't know how she should do this! Mitsunaga took his own glass and poised the spoon over his egg too.

 _Crack!_

His spoon snapped onto the crispy _tuile_ and the layer of icing-sugar cascaded like snow off a roof and the shell caved in. His spoon went straight through the beautiful and luscious meringue and into the pale yellow custard-apple ice-cream. The visual appeal left Erina breathless and salivating more, wanting to taste everything Mitsunaga had to offer.

 _Crack!_

The satisfying snap sent a chill up her spine, her eyes widened, watching _her_ snow egg split and the creamy ice-cream yolk oozed out onto the crystalline nest of rough, rosey snow. After that, it just felt like her spoon plunged into the nothingness of the meringue. The shell was so crisp and that crack was just everything. The real lightness of the meringue… the wonderful fineness of the maltose crack over the top… The first important impression was all about that sound. Erina knew from that sharp sound alone, that she wouldn't be disappointed, _couldn't be_. Not in the least. She spooned some of it and teased the _fool_ and _granita_ onto her spoon with parts of the snow egg, and brought it to her lips.

"Haaa…"

Lids slid shut, weighted by the intensity of Mitsunaga's _Snow Egg._

The dessert was a whisper of a dream, light as a feather and fresh. The guava and strawberry flavours of the granita were refreshing and powerful. Its icy texture was crisp and fresh. There was a great vibrancy of the guava and it made the perfect fruit flavours shine. The meringue was so smooth and light. There was not a single _grain_ of sugar in it so it was like silk on her tongue. She was eating a soft and luscious cloud. It rolled in her mouth along with the creamy, velvety custard at the bottom. The ice-cream at the centre of the snow egg itself was smooth and beautifully soft and creamy. The rich custard apple flavours was exotic and tantalised her palate for more. She could tell that the _englaise_ was spot on so the ice-cream was perfectly stable.

Deliciousness didn't even cover close to doing the dish justice.

Erina didn't wait for anything. She spooned another into her awaiting mouth and _shook._

The proportions were so important and Mitsunaga got it _so_ right. She not only could taste the flavours and texture of the dish, she could taste the _thought_ and _care_ Mitsunaga went into devising and then making this dessert. The amount of _fool_ and the _granita_ was the pinnacle. She noticed that there was less custard than what was normal for the _fool,_ however it allowed for the hit of strawberry and guava which she very much preferred. If he didn't have enough _fool_ in there, then he wouldn't have the creaminess either. It was all a balance-contrast with the chilling iciness of the _granita._ The creamy, velvety _fool_ , the icy granita, the fluffy meringue with this beautiful ice-cream was second to none. The very key to getting the texture of the _granita_ right was not over reducing the guava syrup he had to have made, so that the sugar ratio was right and so that it freezes well and didn't melt. Once again, it was all about balance and Mitsunaga's precision was impeccable. If anything went wrong such as too much sugar, the _granita_ would've melted too quickly and it would lose the contrast between icy and creamy.

Soon, her whiskey tumbler was polished.

Erina looked up. She was in a daze, too drunk on the sensuality and bite of the dessert, and the chilled caresses, that she barely noticed that Mitsunaga plucked the empty, still-chilled glass from her trembling hands and placed it on the coffee-table.

"Well?".

Barely a whisper.

Erina licked her lips, long and slow and his eyes drew to them like magnet to metal. Mitsunaga's dessert was dangerous… _Mitsunaga_ was dangerous. The words couldn't form. It felt like all her life, she'd been in limbo. Moving from day to day fulfilling everything her life required like a checklist. Done and dusted, ready for the someone to add another task to her un-ending, perfunctory list. As a Nakiri heiress with _God's Tongue,_ she had tasted dish after dish and critiqued a whole parade of chefs with barely a struggled… as was required of her. For the first time in forever, she awoke from her half-sleep state and into a daydream and learnt to dream anew. Glowing sapphire eyes grazed heatedly from the short distance… patient… waiting… beguiling… bewitching, yet extraordinarily peculiar… but always…

 _Beautiful._

Erina parted her lips.

"Perfect".

Just like that, Mitsunaga transformed. He was all casual and feigned cool detachment until she put a name to the heart of his dessert with all the honesty she thought he deserved. Then something not only stirred in him, but it seemed to possess his thinking. The rest of the world became an unimportant blur to Erina, and it was banished into the far recesses of her mind. The only thing that matter was… _him._

"A _reward_ for you".

Mitsunaga flicked his eyes back to their normal brightness. Waiting. Listening.

"I-I know I said not to lay a finger on me".

Something unreadable flashed across his eyes again, and just like that they were back to glowing. He listened.

"But maybe…" Erina shifted her body. She couldn't sit still. "Maybe you can lay just… _one_ finger on me".

His eyes were fire in water, if anyone could imagine such a thing. They were passion in ice, nothing like the delicacy of his _Snow Egg_. That both scared and thrilled her beyond anything she knew of. Nothing could sufficiently describe the burning darkness of his pupils nestled in their depths of thin cobalt rings, as he looked upon her as if she was something out of his world. He moved like a creature through the forest in the night. He slipped off the couch in one fluid motion, refusing to break eye-contact. He crouched in the space directly between the coffee table and her on the couch, effectively _kneeling_ before her but she didn't feel like a queen or a princess. Her thighs quivered and her breathing, harsh. She had the sudden feeling that she'd given him permission for something she was entirely unprepared for. He lifted himself onto his haunches effortlessly and braced one hand by her shoulder, on the couch back rest. His lean and toned body blocked her view from everything else like an impenetrable fortress of firm flesh and bones. Her vision was filled with _him_. The heat and heaviness of his hand was felt through her clothes as it sank into the back-rest and goose bumps lined her arms, not the ones for feeling the cold, but the kind one got when nothing else mattered except right here and now. Erina's blood raced through her over-worked heart, her body was pinned by the sheer force of Mitsunaga's presence as she helplessly drowned in his scent and infinite blue depths.

He pressed _one_ finger against her sternum.

Her body was instantly lit on fire and Erina struggled to breathe. He might as well stab her through the chest and pin her to his couch. One light push was all it took for her to sink back, then it felt like the tip of hid finger burned a hole straight into her heart. By _Kami-sama,_ it felt unbelievably fierce. His eyes alone refused to let her go.

His finger skated up and reached her bow. She gulped in anticipation, no idea for what was going to happen next. Her breath hitched in a small gasp as he hooked _one_ finger into the loop and pulled it through. It unraveled as if it was nothing and he lifted it up and away with _one finger…_ and she could do _nothing_ to stop him. She was both hot and cold.

The acceleration of her heart had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with her body crying out from an untapped part of her soul.

He dragged _one_ finger up along the column of her neck, slow and unbearable. She felt every bump and dip against the cartilage of her trachea until it touched the soft underside of her jaw. An explosion of tingling cascaded down her spine as he tilted her head up, re-orienting her face so that he continued to hold her gaze. He stole her heart from her eyes in a way that only magnified the sparks. There was no smile on his lips, only the hot intensity of his gaze. She was at the mercy of just _one_ finger. He leaned in a little closer. _Kami-sama,_ she couldn't fight against the thoughts that were going through her. His very smell was flooding her senses now. Her heart fluttered between beats, making her chest ache.

However before Erina could scrape her thoughts together, he _crooked_ his finger and brought her head forward until he covered her mouth in a searing and hungry kiss.

.

.

.

* * *

 **Ohhhh…You guys know what's going to happen after** _ **that**_ **don't you ;)… that's right, trusty ol' chauffer Kenta-san comes to pick-up Erina within exactly the allotted 1 hour in the limousine of course and whisks her back to the Nakiri Manor. That's going to be fun limo-ride, not awkward at all.**

 **There's so much in this chapter. Take a breath. You've earned it.**

 **Erina's knowledge on romance purely comes out of PLATONIC** _ **shoujou manga,**_ **because she literally doesn't have anything or anyone else to teach her how a relationship should be (maybe except Alice, but she'd be just as unreliable). Who's to say instincts won't compensate for it :)** **In saying that, I'm also sure that even though they are in a relationship, there are things in Erina's past that she doesn't want Yozora knowing about** _ **either**_ **… And Yozora… wow, you are putting in the moves pretty fast here** _ **boi**_ **. But that's just him. Yozora is… very singular… in his wants, so** _ **pacing**_ **in the relationship** **… may be neglected in the equation** **very now and then** **because of his 'inexperience' and 'enthusiasum' I suppose. He'll learn. But we'll see more on how that will affect Erina. I think Erina also low-key enjoys the attention anyway, that little tsundere ;)**

 **AND Who've we met on the NPC Network so far?**

 **1\. The Barista.  
** **2\. The Coffee Roaster.  
** **3\. The Cracker.**

 **I'm more nervous about the reaction for this date than the confession chapter to be honest. Let me know what you think, and I'll see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **\- TripWire-dono**


	19. Cape Caem

_Chapter 19 - Cape Caem_

* * *

 _ **Semi Finals**_

"We're going to be late".

Was it wrong for him to think that she was cute and sexy when she was all huffy? Yozora's feet slowed to an agonising pace, watching and admiring the curve of Nakiri's waist as the distance between himself and her figure broadened. It took about three full seconds before she noticed that he dropped behind and that she was now in front, instead of being beside him. She whirled around in a golden flurry and pinned him with the most acrimonious glower she could muster. He kicked up his languidness another notch by yawning, then Yozora tilted his head, fixing her with a hooded gaze of his own.

"We're not, it's just the emcee intro".

"It's the semi-finals!".

Nakiri seethed and tapped her foot impatiently on the linoleum as she waited for Yozora to catch up. His hands were deep in his pockets as he strolled. Perfectly lazy and without a care, just the way she hated it. Nakiri was a punctual and perfectly-timed creature, everything was either on schedule or not part of her agenda at all and Yozora loved being her anomaly. He liked that… _being_ _hers…_ Her perfect pink lips twisted into an impatient grimace and her displeasure was so apparent that he could taste it. The glowing embers from her molten amethyst orbs were really to die for. Yozora finally picked up the pace and brushed past her and threw his head back to connect with the eyes he adored, can't helping the smirk from riding his lips when she closed them and turned away as she resumed walking to catch up with his longer strides.

Yukihira's match with Kurokiba today was sure to get the crowd completely revved up for a great start to the morning. The whole school had been talking about the last two matches of the semi-finals. For the past nine days Yozora had been literally mobbed on the way to _The Guild's_ clubroom by the _Tootsuki Sports_ middle school reporters. He was so taken by surprise that he'd no idea what to do or say. He'd been surrounded by media before when _The Guild_ had done promotions for _TGS_ , community festivals and the one time in _Comic-Con_ and _E3_ in the US a couple of years back, but Kasai- _senpai_ had always been the one who handled it and was the spokesperson, since he'd been the President of _The Guild_ during those times and was better at speaking and giving speeches than the rest of them.

"We haven't talked in nine whole days. I want to make this moment last before I have to enter in yet, the greatest battle of my life with Hayama".

"Don't be so over dramatic".

Yozora spun around on one foot whimsically, until he blocked her path. Nakiri skidded to a halt in the middle of the corridor and froze up, her spine went rigid like a spooked cat. Yozora dipped his whole body from the hips, towards Nakiri, his rump jutted out until he was eye-level with her. The only thing for his balance was his elbows springing out to the side as his hands were still nestled in his pants pockets. The lovely rouge upon her full cheeks reached all the way to her ears and Yozora's smirk transformed into a Cheshire grin.

"I thought about you the whole time when practicing my _marron_ dish", said Yozora.

Nakiri's mouth opened and closed, aghast, reddening until she was like the sunset. He made sure to be right up close to her face, so he wouldn't miss a single thing that flitted through her expression. Finally she snapped her jaw shut and pushed him out of the way. Her measured steps became borderline stomps as she blazed a trail down the corridor towards _Heaven's Moon Arena._

"The whole point of _not_ meeting each other until the end of the semi-finals was so that you could concentrate. _Kami-sama,_ you're hopeless".

She got him there. Nakiri suddenly stopped and leaned against the wall. Her hand gripped the opposite elbow as she shuffled her feet to find her comfortable position. Her hair were waves of pure sun, softly reflecting in the rays; each strand moving freely by the open window, a compliment to her stillness. With eyes of majestic lavenders in glossy thought, her prickly aura seeped into the Autumn air between them until they smoothed out into gossamer light silk. And in that moment, in that fraction of time, her pout was in every _Kami-sama_ given feature and Yozora knew yet again that he was one lucky bastard.

"Why're we stopping here?".

"Y-You said you wanted to spend more time… before entering in your match, right?".

Nakiri continued to fake-sulk against the wall. Her arms came up to cradle her middle as she hesitantly relaxed and nonchalantly brushed the soft fringes that framed her small ear with her well-manicured fingers. But the way she started to chew her lip was so telling of how she wanted this as much as he did. Lips he'd love to claim again. Instead, Yozora settled beside her and pulled out his hands from his pockets. He leaned back out of the open window and reclined his forearms against the window sills. He scooted slightly forward to allow his feet to brace against the linoleum, keeping his centre of gravity in the sweet spot. The soft and fresh breeze teased his hair and the warmth of the building evaporated off of his skin. He turned his head to Nakiri. It wasn't like Yukihira needed him to be there or anything. Maybe Hayato-kun would be annoyed about saving an empty set again.

"Tell me about Yukihira's and Kurokiba's ingredient", said Yozora.

Nakiri moved only her eyes, as if to say _'What?'_ in her own dignified-Nakiri way.

He shrugged as much as his posture allowed.

Nakiri shifted slightly and sighed. "It's _**sanma**_ ".

Mackerel pike? Yozora quirked his brow. Huh. How about that. It was almost a let-down because _sanma_ was such a common fish. Even the most broke family could still afford that fish and stretch one into a meal for four. Nakiri must've noticed his abrupt stare to the opposite wall resulting from his surprise. She answered the silence with her refined voice, just like the way music breathed life into him.

"I know what you're thinking. It's true that throughout Japanese cuisine, _sanma_ was viewed as a common fish that only the peasantry ate. But recently high-class restaurants have begun serving it and it now appears on the menus of restaurants all over the world. It's become an unspoken representative of the Autumn fishing season".

Yozora nodded. Oh, that's why. So it really was prized ingredient in seafood dishes across the world. _Sanma_ was an autumnal fish and obviously fitted with the 'Autumn' theme for the whole tournament too, so why not? He casted his mind back to the last time he had _sanma._ With its fatty meat, it was renowned for its robust fragrance. The first thing that sprang to mind was the delicious salt-grilled _sanma._ The crispy skin… the hot, succulent meat… the savoury smell of its juices… All one needed was a dollop of grated _daikon_ on top and it was just the epitome of pleasure on the tongue. Yozora remembered that it had been popping up recently in _sushiyas_ too. Being such a general ingredient, anyone could do anything with it, he supposed. When selecting fish it was an important to have an eye for picking out the good ones from the bad ones.

"Hmm, that explains why Hayato-kun's been taking Yukihira out to _Kirigakure no Ichiba_ so early in the mornings. He was helping him choose _sanma_ to cook with", said Yozora.

 _"The… Hidden Mist Markets?"_.

Nakiri turned her body more towards him, her eyes lit up in curiosity. Yet another place, she'd never heard of, he'd bet. Hmm, perhaps another date spot?

"Yeah, it's a harbour-side fish market in _Mizunochou._ It's famous for the mist that rolls in from the harbour during the summers. It makes it really hard to see the markets".

Yozora peeled off the window sill and rubbed the soreness from his forearms before turning around to look outside. Fragile red and bronzed leaves twirled and danced across the empty courtyard. The wind picked up and some of them blew by the window, creating a gust in the corridor. It caught onto Nakiri's hair and skirt, but she was quick to flatten her hand on her pleats and her other hand shielded her face from her wild golden strands.

"I learned some tricks while helping out an _NPC_ in the past and from class that there are a few things to look out for in _sanma._ You want ones that are plump and firm, their eyes should be clear and not cloudy and the ones with yellow around their mouths are said to be fresher and to have more fat".

Nakiri scoffed with a smirk on her face.

Okay, what did he say? Yozora narrowed his eyes and slid them towards her. He cocked his head to the side. She squared him with her signature haughty gaze and then rolled her eyes the other way as if he said the dumbest thing. Oh, he was so intrigued, now.

"But you don't always want to grab whichever ones freshest", said Nakiri.

"…Ha?".

It was her turn to tilt her head at him now. Yozora felt like he was going to get dished.

" _Those_ haven't hit peak _umami_ yet. The more time passes, the more inosinic acid, an _umami_ compound, builds up. That's how fish age. How much inosinic acid there is and how fast it builds up depend on how the fish is caught. Even a fish you just caught could still be bland and tough. You don't want one that's too firm, or one that hasn't aged enough. Figuring out how to tell that, well… that just takes experience".

Yozora just got _nerfed_ by Nakiri and he was loving it. She curled her long fingers around a golden tendril, her smirk still danced on her lips. He swore her eyes darkened at him just now too. She gracefully strode back to the window he was leaning over and he moved away to give her room. By now, his eyes followed her, hot on her heels. She glanced at him again, from under her heavy lashes, obviously pleased with his stunned silence. Not a trait of the earlier anxiety was advertised on her beautiful face.

"I'll bet you that when it comes to choosing for texture, Yukihira-kun would choose the _sanma_ that would stand up straight by holding its tail upright, and Kurokiba-kun would choose the one that was smaller, less firm, and less plump".

Yozora straightened up and faced her seriously.

"How do you figure that?".

"Kurokiba-kun grew up in a seaport town in Denmark. Seafood is his life, and bread and butter. Only someone with that level of experience and intuition would take into account things like _rigour index_ and _toughness_ ".

"Huh? Rigour index?".

"When you catch a fish and it dies, it gets stiff like humans do when they die. The number assigned as a quick indicator of the degree of rigour is the _rigour index._ But what really determines the texture of the fish isn't that…". Erina paused.

Yozora crossed his arms and rested his whole side against the wall this time, crossing his ankles, while Nakiri had her turn to observe out the corridor window. His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply and deflated as he exhaled very slowly. The light shone on her clear skin, almost illuminating it in a soft, ethereal glow. He even went that extra mile to lazily thunk the side of his head against the wall too and regarded Nakiri closely from behind his messy fringe, as she lectured him on choosing _sanma_ using Yukihira and Kurokiba as her teaching dummies. He easily resisted blinking as he watched her eyes shine with full pride in her culinary knowledge. Talking shop seemed to make her the most relaxed and calm, the gentle ease in her aura made his heart hum in satisfaction that his girlfriend could be comfortable with him and let her guard down in his presence a bit more. Her words flowed from her mouth like a cool bubbling stream through the meadows, and they were tinted with excitement as she kept going and going, explaining to her hearts content. It made her sparkle and he wished it would never end.

"It's the cohesiveness of the fish's meat". Erina turned around and held up a finger to him. "The cohesiveness of a _sanma's_ meat drops dramatically five hours after _ikijime_ has been performed on the fish. In other words, after that point, the fish's texture just gets worst. However its rigour index holds for about ten hours before slowly deteriorating".

"So in other words…", Yozora swiftly cut in.

Nakiri stuttered into a halt as if she had never been interrupted like that before. Her finger slackened in the air and just hung awkwardly. Her eyes widened in incredulity and her mouth was stuck in a small rounded shape, not sure on how to react to being shaken out of her element or train of thought. Yozora took advantage of her momentary stupor and kept going.

"A _sanma_ may have a high enough rigour index that it will stand up even though it's _cohesiveness_ has already dropped off, ruining its texture".

"R-Right". Nakiri coughed into her fist. "You can't pick one based only on look and feel. That's the biggest pitfall in choosing _sanma"._

Yozora sucked his teeth and nodded for Nakiri to continue.

"When ingredients are in season, their taste and quality shoot through the roof. Alice tells me that Kurokiba-kun goes to the riverside markets almost every day, so that he maintains his skills. It's not just simple intuition he has, his talent goes deeper. He can choose the best fish just by holding it. He can tell how healthy the fish is when it was alive, how good the fisherman were when performing _ikijime,_ whether it was transported in enough water, and whether it was kept cold enough".

"Then I guess, Yukihira would be in trouble".

"Finally, you're getting it".

"But! I know for a fact that Hayato-kun didn't take Yukihira to The Hidden Mist Markets _this_ morning… which means… he isn't after _fresh_ fish for his match… so I think he has another card up his sleeve".

Nakiri looked up at him with knitted brows, trying to follow him. Yozora kicked off the wall and looked towards the direction of _Heaven's Moon Arena._ The match would've been in the thick of it by now and he couldn't bring himself to regret missing Yukihira and Kurokiba battling with everything they were worth, not when he'd spent a good amount of alone time with his girlfriend talking about fish. But the good times didn't always last, so they'd better get a move on either way.

"Let's get going. Everyone will—"

"So that's where you've been lurking around the entire time, Mitsunaga".

The chilling disembodied voice encased his body in ice. The deadness and stillness in tone was all bad news. Yozora spun around just in time to see Nakiri do the same. At the end of the opposite corridor, where they'd just come from stood Eizan Etsuya. Fuck, he looked really pissed. He had his hands in his pockets, but his shoulders were hunched and coiled, the angry tension coming off of him in heavy waves that suffocated the nice atmosphere they had earlier. If he looked like a mean delinquent before, he looked like a murderous _yakuza_ this time. The blonde upperclassman advanced upon them and Yozora on instinct grabbed Nakiri and dragged her behind him. She gasped loudly, but he didn't have time to reassure her. Right now, he just concentrated on the ball of rigid fury that was quickly gaining speed, until the Eighth Seater was right up in his face. Yozora gulped, and backed up a bit, losing his nerve to stand his ground. His skin prickled with static electricity and sweat started to bead around the temples. His fight or flight systems kicked in as Eizan- _senpai's_ nostrils flared. Fear was one word out of the myriad to describe how he was feeling now.

"Making me sign that contract for Isshiki was some fucked up shit".

Eizan's hot breath on his face did more than intimidate Yozora, it scared the crap out of him. His lethal stare felt painful and piercing as if his glare was tearing his heart apart with a blinding incensed fury and his glasses magnified it. Nakiri clutched the back of his blazer.

"You've no idea what you're getting into. Isshiki had no _fucking_ right to tell you anything about me!".

"It's just business on my end".

 _BAM!_

Pain exploded from his back. Yozora gasped and choked back a yell in shock. He felt a sickening crack as his headphones band smacked against the wall, taking the brunt for the back of neck. Nakiri's scream was the only thing that kept him from seeing stars. His foot slipped and by some miracle he still stood upright, and he realised that to his horror, that Eizan- _senpai_ had him by the collar of his shirt and had effectively slammed him up against the wall. Yozora immediately clawed at the violent _senpai's_ hands, but he only pressed harder into his neck making the panic and the pain sky-rocket. Saliva pooled into his mouth and his throat burned for oxygen as he gagged, karma from his idiotic choice in words. He gritted his teeth in his pathetic attempt to resist his throat muscles from caving in to the point of suffocation. The throbbing in his back worsened as Eizan- _senpai_ relentlessly held him up by the shirt, his arms were pure titanium and his temper was the force of a devastating storm.

" _EIZAN-SENPAI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LET HIM GO!"_ Nakiri hollered.

It did nothing to deter him and he treated Nakiri as if she wasn't there. Yozora didn't even look her way to check if she was okay, too busy fighting to put air into his lungs from Eizan- _senpai's_ insanely tight grip. The way his eyes squinted when he locked it on his reminded Yozora of a pit-viper's slitted pupils. The burning animosity consumed his beady eyes and they flashed much like lightning on a pitch black night. He couldn't recognised the _senpai_ anymore.

"You're just _loving_ this aren't you… You and the rest of the _fucking_ Guild… You think that you can do _anything,_ but you won't get away with this…!".

Yozora managed to wedge his fingertips between Eizan- _senpai's_ curled fists and his throat, and managed to give himself enough reprieve for a quick suck in oxygen.

"Urgh!... A-As if you should…", he coughed, "be t-talking about… _l-love_ …!".

 _BAM!_

Eizan- _senpai_ pulled back and slammed him back into the wall.

"Get off of him, or I'm calling security!", yelled Nakiri.

That seemed to spark something rational in Eizan- _senpai's_ lost mind, as he hesitated for a few moments before releasing Yozora. He crashed onto the floor. The _senpai_ stood back and shook out his hands and then smoothed them against the side of his pants. His rage was reduced to a smouldering hate, so palpable and toxic that Yozora's stomach also protested. He stood over his prone form like a hostile titan, as Yozora wiped the saliva that managed to trickle out of his mouth and shakily supported himself with his other hand planted on the floor. Nakiri was instantly at his side with her hand on his shoulder, trying to lift him off of the wall. Yozora looked up, wincing, but refusing to break eyes contact with Eizan- _senpai_.

"This isn't over. I'll burn the _heart_ out of you… I'll tear your whole _world_ down… I'll destroy _everything_ you've built… and I'll take away _everything_ you love".

With that, the Eighth Seater turned on his heels and thundered down the corridor. The atmosphere broiled in his wake coating Nakiri in a paralysed state of confusion while Yozora was getting his oxygen levels in check.

" _Kami-sama,_ are you alright?!".

Yozora let his head fall back against the wall. He trembled with every breath and his lungs took longer to settle. He was utterly done with the day. Suddenly he felt Nakiri's sweaty hands all over his cheeks and her face crowded his vision, his eyes didn't have enough time to fight off the dark spots and focus on her features, but only her fragrance filled his senses and that was enough for him. Yozora steadily pulled himself up, using the wall to aide him before he straightened his back and gripped the back of neck. He felt a deep fissure at the back of his headphones. Fuck.

"I'm fine", sighed Yozora.

He really wasn't but what good did it do to tell Nakiri that? His back was killing him, but he was sure that the adrenaline for his match this afternoon with Hayama would mask it completely, and as long as he went to get his fast acting pain medication from Kasai- _senpai_ first.

"What the _hell_ was that about?!", scolded Nakiri.

Did she just cuss? One look at her heated, tempestuous filled face and the worried undertone in her eyes was enough to put the fear of _Kami-sama_ back into his bones. She was red in the face as she flung away her concern and glared daggers at him, looking about to do as much damage as Eizan- _senpai_. Guilt ate at his insides like maggots on dead-flesh. She was shaking like a leaf too, after just witnessing a student point-blank attacking another in front of her eyes. How was he going to get out of this one now…

"It's about the contract… the one Eizan- _senpai_ had to sign if I won against Mimasaka".

"I know _that_ much. Mitsunaga-kun, be straight with me and _I'm serious!_ What was in the contract that made him Eizan- _senpai_ attack you like that!? And what does it have to do with Isshiki- _senpai?_ ".

Yozora sighed and leaned forward on his knees. "If I tell, I would be breaking Isshiki- _senpai's_ trust".

"W-What?".

Yozora looked away. He thought about the day on how all this shit started.

.

.

.

* * *

.

.

.

 _ **Quarter Finals Day 1 – Eleven Days Earlier.**_

 _Knock, Knock, Knock._

Yozora breath hitched at the door. Every logical cell in his brain told him that that there was a good chance that Nakiri was going to be in the viewing box too, but nothing prepared him for the lovely sight that awaited him. His feet rooted to the spot, not daring in enter the space. The shock and surprise on her face was cute when she laid eyes on him. Then her hand flew to her hair, smoothing it obsessively with her cheeks pink and flushed as her eyes darted to-and-fro. He felt his own cheeks growing hot and his mouth had gone completely dry. He gripped the door frame until his knuckles whitened. He drank in her visage all he could, never tiring of her beauty and the lick of fiery determination that flared in her amethyst eyes.

Nakiri wasn't just Nakiri anymore. She was his _girlfriend_ now.

It took him everything to rip his unblinking eyes from her, to the reason for his visit at least. Isshiki- _senpai_. He'd received a phone call from the elusive _senpai_ , about five minutes ago, just when he was about to sit down with Polar Star and Hayato-kun. It was weird because he didn't remember giving the _senpai,_ his number. Either way, he'd call him up to meet with him as the _Guild Master._

"You wanted to see me, Isshiki- _senpai?"_.

"Oh yes! Thank you for coming so quickly".

The auburn-haired upperclassman was all smiles and sunshine as he enthusiastically got up from the couch. Nakiri gaped at him in confusion as he strode briskly to Mitsunaga and clasped a hand securely over his shoulder. Suddenly, his lids opened and Yozora was struck down by aquamarine gemstones. They were sharp, clear and filled with mirth, but a slight disturbance in its hues that slightly rattled him. Then he turned his head around to Nakiri.

"Nakiri-kun, would you mind if Mitsunaga-kun and I have a private chat here? I need to talk to him about something important".

"Are you asking me to leave?".

"If you could".

The indignation and the offense at the request painted her face in a brand new red sheen. Nakiri huffed and rolled her eyes as she collected her book-bag. Her eyes skated over the coffee table before she got up and brushed past Isshiki- _senpai_ and himself, making sure to glare at the Seventh Seather and flicked her hair over her shoulders. Yozora blushed as she caught a whiff of her fragrance and shampoo. Shit, he could drown in that and be a happy man. She didn't spare him a single glance and an explosion of fear and worry sprung him into action as she was shortly making her way down the hallway, not wanting to leave without talking to her just once. He followed after her.

"Nakiri, wait!".

She whipped around immediately, as if her name was an anchor to him. Yozora almost crashed into her, but pulled himself up shortly. Her back went rigid and he felt his energy already sapped from his body and he hyper-ventilated for no conceivable reason as his nerves started to take over from being in her presence just the day after his confession. Her deep purple eyes examined him in wonderment and confusion making his cheeks feel even hotter, and her lips parted about to say something, but he beat her too it.

"Umm… before you go, I was wondering if you're free the day after my match".

She blinked. Her silence made him almost stop breathing. His face flushed pink again. His heart stuttered, ready to give out. What was left of his courage forced a half-smile and he looked at her hoping she would see the promise of rising sense of warmth. He saw the way her chest rose and fell in rapid succession and the unease in her became very apparent. Shit! Maybe asking her out was way too fucking soon?! There was so much in her silence, so much that she just wouldn't say. Yozora could see by her expression there was a lot going on her head. Desperation haunted his brain, conjuring up other words that he could use to re-shape his proposition.

"U-Uh… I suppose, I could spare an hour or so… _just an hour!"._

Her voice shot straight through his heart and went right to his brain like a shot of hot-chocolate. Yozora's eyes widened, confounded by a split second but that was enough to let the Nakiri's words sink in. He beamed at her. The corner of his eyes crinkled as he let the true happiness he felt shine through to her. Her eyes were shy to meet his, instead concentrating on his headphones. A little sparkle of curiosity flicked through her eyes as he realised that she was captured by the low volume of the tune he was listening to on the way to see Isshiki- _senpai._

"Your headphones are still playing music". She pointed out.

"Hmmm? Oh whoops, so they are".

He supposed he should turn them off before it headed off to the next track of the _Hidden Track_ album when he wasn't ready yet. He raised his hand and nimbly pressed the pause button on the side of his large silver headphones.

"It's _**Track 51**_ in case you're wondering".

"I was not". Nakiri deadpanned.

He chuckled. She was so funny. "Anyway, thanks. I'll meet you after class the day after tomorrow".

Yozora felt he kept Isshiki- _senpai_ waiting long enough so he decided that he'd leave Nakiri there for now. She nodded stiffly at him before he turned around. Suddenly he felt so wrong about that. Was it really alright to part from her without a proper goodbye now that they were girlfriends and boyfriends? He stopped in his tracks and turned back. He returned to her and stood as close as he could muster, savouring the way blood flooded her cheeks once more and she opened her mouth, about to tell him off for getting too close, no doubt.

He kissed her forehead.

Erina jolted back out of her reverie and stumbled back. She placed her shaking fingers on her forehead. Her face was a serious shade of fire-engine red and her mouth was stuck in a silent gasp. All that disappeared as she schooled her expression back into the haughty Nakiri Heiress mask she always wore with confidence. Yozora grinned, loving the way she pretended to be bigger and above making a scene for his display of affection to her. He loved the vividness and vitality behind her deep purple eyes, he loved the liquid sun which her hair was made of, and he loved the _sadness_ in the creases of her expression. He loved all of her, not just the parts that make sense, not just the parts that she had shown him. He loved the part of her that he didn't yet understand and the parts that weighed on her shoulders, the parts Yozora only noticed when he stole glances at her in the silence.

"Everything's gonna be alright, I promise".

"Wh-What are you talking about?".

"Being with me and all is gonna cause a lot of flak for you. So I'm just saying… I'll make sure none of that will get to you".

Her face fell like waterfall as if he said something that scared or confused her. He frowned, but then forced himself into a smile. That's right. He'd be her protector as much as she allowed. Even if she didn't… well, she didn't need to know exactly the lengths he'd go to make sure she was safe from the external and the internal nuisances of _Tootsuki_ that threatened her security. Yozora knew he was far from perfect, so he'd compensate for it as much as he could, using the _resources_ he had at his disposal. As her boyfriend, he was Nakiri's protector now. He would defend her even if the odds were insurmountable. He would comfort her in the difficult and painful times and he would rejoice with her when times were good. That was the role he thought himself fit to be in. In short, he _loved_ her.

"What makes you think you can promise that?". She said in a small and doubtful voice.

He lowered his head to her, making sure she saw only him.

" _Trust me"._

Nakiri's eyes shot to his, wide and staring, as if the word ' _trust'_ wasn't part of her vocabulary. Why would it be? Only Arato seemed to watch her back while she was sniped by others from all other sides. Her body suddenly sagged, but it wasn't an unhappiness that Yozora sensed. There was something so warm that felt so right, smelt right too. Her muscles became lose as he peeked at her cautiously from beneath his dark fringe. He didn't move forward to embrace her. He wanted to give her the respect of space this time. But if he did, he imaged cradling her to him letting her know that she could trust him completely as he promised her his devotion over and over. The vulnerable girl before him sighed heavily before shyly looking up at him. He picked it out then, from her gaze, even if she didn't know it herself.

 _Hope._

Perhaps the hope had been there all along since she'd accepted his confession and agreed to be with him. Without some _love_ it was trapped, like crystals in a stone. He was very tempted to brush her hair back from her face with his piano-player fingers and kiss her again. Suddenly Nakiri lifted her chin up in challenge. Her expressive eyes hardened into glowing embers of fire licking the walls of amethyst glass. He liked that look on her and he let her know that with his own small smile. She folded her arms under her bust and cocked her hips out to the side, like a total _prima donna._

"If anyone… _so much…_ as asks me a single inane question or make an asinine comment about our association, I will dump you".

Yozora's blood woke up in his brain, though he was already wide awake. His smile grew on his own accord and he could either let Nakiri know how much of a turn-on she was, or hide it. He chose the former. Either way, she was the most breath-taking thing in his world. He'd known Nakiri for only a short while, but he was convinced that she was the only flame he would ever need… and then _he'd_ be the one she'd ever he need too.

He licked his lips.

"Yes, _Hime-dere_ ".

She visibly gulped before spinning on her heels and strode gracefully away, not giving him a backwards glance or a goodbye. Oh, he had it _so bad…_

"Are you quite finished, Mitsunaga-kun?".

Yozora turned around to see Isshiki- _senpai_ hanging off the door-frame of the Elite Ten viewing box. He was in too much of a good mood, and felt like he was on a high, or even drunk on Nakiri to feel embarrassed. He merely clasped his hand behind his head and sauntered back to the _senpai._ He entered and Isshiki- _senpai_ closed the door behind them. Yozora fell back into the couch seat and released a gush of breath.

Time to get serious.

Yozora schooled his expression and faced the window, looking up at the huge suspended television screen. Ibusaki-kun seemed to fare pretty well, but Hayama looked like he was in the lead with his superior mix of spices for his _tom yum soup._ He waited for the Seventh Seater to get himself ready or something as he fussed with his phone. Then he came around and settled himself neatly and gracefully on the further end of the couch.

"Do I dare ask about Nakiri-kun?" he chuckled.

Yozora bristled and snuffed back a smirk. "Better not", he replied.

The atmosphere evened out and a quite calm settled over them, but there was a clogged _bass note_ as Yozora formed theories on why Isshiki- _senpai_ summoned him for a private talk in a secluded and secure part of the _Heaven's Moon Arena._ Suspicion wasn't quite the word to describe his mood, but rather a patient wariness. The upperclassman wetted his lips.

"I have a _quest_ for you".

Yozora listened.

"I want you to take back all ninety-nine of the chef's knives that are in Mimasaka's possession and return them to their respective owners".

' _All ninety-nine?!'._

Okay, that blew suspicion to the top of his list. Yozora twisted around to look at Isshiki- _senpai_ properly. Out of all things? He sat there with his knees spread apart and his elbows braced on each of them. His slowly wringing hands indicated impatience or even nervousness. Isshiki-senpai nervous? Pffttt. But his long fingers intertwining in almost an obsessive manner indicated that maybe it was true. His head hung low, but his smile was wide on his handsome face. His eyes though… there was something puzzling in them, enough to send Yozora's senses into overdrive and observe him for everything. Yozora really wanted to know why he was looked like he was about forfeit a part of his soul. He approached this with caution.

"Why".

"You're the only one who can beat him in a _shokugeki_ at this point".

Yozora shrunk into the couch, not knowing what to make of that comment, so Isshiki _-senpai_ looked up, but didn't meet his eyes. His back still bowed forward as he was now rubbing his palms together, making his body slightly sway. Isshiki- _senpai_ started to elaborate.

"You operate on a different wavelength from the rest of us _,_ Mitsunaga-kun. Mimasaka has traced an extraordinary amount of chefs in _Tootsuki,_ bringing him to all the victories he'd won to this day. He can anticipate every decision a _chef_ will make, he can copy all the skills a _chef_ has right down to the last detail, and he can study any cuisine a _chef_ specialises in. All that until he could become a the chef's doppleganger. He is The ' _Perfect Tracer of Chefs'_ ".

"Why do you think I can defeat _that_?".

"He's never had to trace an _**ex-classical pianist and music prodigy**_ before".

Yozora's lungs resisted seizing up. The silence thickened until he could cut it with a butter knife. The weight of the title pulled his heart into his stomach like a ball and chain around a prisoner's ankle. Yozora couldn't fault him a single thing. It's true that Mimasaka had traced only _chefs…_ and that Yozora was of a different persuasion when it came to his culinary approach. Isshiki _-senpai…_ what a clever bastard. He proved himself to be such an opportunist too, using the fact that Yozora was going to be up against Mimasaka. Yozora narrowed his eyes at him in disdain mixed with admiration, as if his upperclassman didn't drop a bomb in the plush and decked out room. He watched Ibusaki-kun's and Hayama's match like spectating a relaxing junior high-school practice baseball game. He could appreciate Isshiki- _senpai_ to some degree. The way he just charmed people to him with kind and sweet words effortlessly was an art form worthy of envy. His true efforts and hard work to upkeep his sociable and likeable personality probably belied the friendly and warm countenance and aura he exuded day in and day out, breezing through _Tootsuki_ life without a care in the world. For him to butter Yozora up like that spoke of a mischievous, but twisted sense of confidence in his skills and that Yozora finally understood why Kasai _-senpai_ and Tsurugi _-senpai_ respected him out of all the Elite Ten Council members.

"Alright then. What does _The Guild_ get in return?".

"I will give your RS its own building as a clubroom. You'll get an expanded state-of-the-art kitchen furnished with all the latest cooking appliances and equipment you can ask for. I'll quadruple _The Guild's_ RS budget to just below Elite Ten status, which is still higher than the more notable Research Society's in _Tootuski._ And finally, _The Guild_ will have my support and backing for anything you want from the Elite Ten Council".

Yozora blinked.

"That's a huge _reward_ for just a _shokugeki-based_ quest".

"It is, but it's enough to compensate for what _you_ will need to risk putting up for stakes on your part to complete _my quest"._

 _Kami-sama._ He was totally right. Ninety-nine knives… ninety-nine souls. All those knives carried huge sentimentalism for each chef that lost to Mimasaka's cruelty. Each chef was unique, special and _important._ Each of their blades meant _the world_ to them. It was more than just the physical knives. This was about the pride and souls of _real people._ Four sealed files weren't going to cut it anymore. How was he going to match that? The number _ninety-nine_ blared at him. Could he handle this? _Should he accept the quest?_

Damn… but the sweet _reward…_ It's the best _reward_ he'd ever heard. Also having someone like Isshiki _-senpai_ as their _NPC_ came with additional _bonuses_ too not just for _The Guild,_ but for the rest of the _NPC Network_ who will undoubtedly need a bit more of a connection to _Tootsuku Culinary Academy._

 _The NPC Network_ …

He made his decision.

"Can you guarantee your _reward?"._

"I can. It will take some time to get everything in order".

"If you can't, there are penalties for not fulfilling the _reward_ owed to us".

"Ah yes, I know all about that, the famed _quest docket_ will outline all that for me", he chuckled humourlessly.

Yozora got up and stretched. So here was the plan. He'd go back to Mimasaka and accept his _shokugeki_ for their _Quarter Final Match._ He'd propose a new stake for him, which he can't refuse because all ninety-nine knives would be a huge haul. It would either be a huge-fucking win or a huge-fucking loss for him, and Mimasaka would be all for to being the hand that smacks him down from a great height. Yozora believed he could spin this carefully, if he used his smarts and wit. Business was over now, he'd send Isshiki _-senpai_ the _quest docket_ to sign, confirming the _quest_ until completion.

Yozora stopped in his tracks…

' _Something's not right'._

He looked over his shoulder, back at Isshiki _-senpai_. He hadn't moved from his spot and better yet, he hadn't _once_ looked him in the eyes ever since they sat down and discussed the _quest_. Call him paranoid, but that was really uncharacteristic of the _senpai_ who was known for his formidable cooking prowess, silver-tongue and confidence. Electrical impulses shot from one brain cell to the other, building up connections for this behaviour, as the churning gut feeling of doubt and suspicion snaked its way from his stomach to his heart and his brain screamed at him not to go yet. Yozora couldn't be sure, but there was something about Isshiki- _senpai_ that was off. He could see it in his glazed eyes, his slowed movements and his drooping posture. However for the life of him he couldn't pin-point what!

Yozora sat back down.

"This is— I just—".

He struggled to find the words, so his frustration mounted and he dragged his hand down his face.

"You can _easily_ _win_ and _get_ all ninety-nine knives back _yourself_ from Mimasaka with just one _shokugeki._ Mimasaka will buy into an Elite Ten challenging him like a shark to blood. Even if he's smart enough to know that he can't easily win against you and then doesn't agree to a _shokugeki_ , he's still part of _Eizan-senpai's_ faction. You can challenge _Eizan-senpai_ to a _shokugeki_ match for the knives instead. Eizan- _senpai_ is a seat under you so you have a good chance of winning too. You don't have to go through me at all!".

"…".

Isshiki- _senpai's_ smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. Uh oh… he'd seen that look before… on Hayato-kun… especially when he's trying to hide some sort of deep-seated pain from the world. It felt inconceivable that _Isshiki-senpai_ couldn't feel any pain. He was human too. He was always smiling, jovial, bright and happy… oh that was his mistake… Yozora felt like an idiot. The only difference between Hayato-kun and auburn-haired upperclassman was that Isshiki _-senpai_ was a lot more socially intelligent. He could hide things better, manipulate the situations to his favour… be untouchable.

' _But not this time… because the saddest people smiled the brightest'._

Yozora bit his lip. He couldn't let this go. This was more than just business now.

"So why don't you do that?".

"I can't", said Isshiki- _senpai._

"What's stopping you?".

"…".

If he wanted to play riddles, then fine. Yozora was going to dissect him and unravel him for all he was worth. He'd start from the bottom.

"Mimasaka means nothing to you, I know that for a fact… but Eizan _-senpai…_ he's part of Eizan- _senpai's_ faction… the only connection you have is with _him._ It's _Eizan-senpai_ ".

"…".

"Why won't you move against Eizan- _senpai?_ ".

"… _I can't"._

Isshiki- _senpai's_ tone shifted. It was slight, but it was clear. There was a brief hitch in breathlessness underlying his words in how they strained from between his teeth and the falter in his lips. Yozora trapped him. When the Seventh Seater looked up, he made sure that his eyes were within his line of sight. As long as Yozora could see his eyes, he could _see everything._

' _Oh fuck'._

The devastation in them were absolute. That was how Yozora would describe. Bile rose to his throat. Although he believed it was much more than just _'suffering',_ it was the plethora of helpless and hopeless emotions that raked their bleeding nails behind the lens of Isshiki- _senpai's_ eyes, imprisoned by his own doing. He was nothing like the guy he'd known. Yozora saw a broken soul. Nausea swirled in his gut unrestrained by his empty stomach. His head swam with half-formed regrets for prying into Isshiki- _senpai._ His heart felt as if his blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat, crying on another's behalf. Isshiki- _senpai's_ melancholy hung over him like a black cloud, raining a sorrow that was indescribable. But something else… something else in his eyes, it was a stark, forlorn emptiness of a bright light snuffed out in the dead of night. Yozora sensed the pain was more than any other emotional force Yozora had ever known.

' _Oh double fuck'_.

Then he realised… not just a broken soul… a _broken heart._

"You're… You're _in love_ with him…?"

The boy in question inhaled through his nose sharply and righted his posture. His smile was no more and was just a tight wince. His eyes bled with muddy and murky aqua-blue and the moist sheen just subtly there. His hands raked both sides of his temples, tangling his fingers in his auburn, wavy tresses before breathing out as if the pent-up tension was forcing him to enact such a primal act of almost tearing ones hair out. Yozora couldn't imagine such a thing as _loving_ Eizan- _senpai_ of all people! He was flabbergasted! But the truth was laid bare as Isshiki _-senpai_ didn't deny it and the sadness exuded even more as he let go.

"We were middle schoolers at the time".

Yozora went ram-rod straight, not expecting Isshiki _-senpai_ to divulge anything. His voice was even, but barely keeping together.

"Eizan-kun was the brightest person I've ever met. His wit and intelligence was exceptional and his single-minded focus for his goals and dreams were nothing like I'd ever seen before. He was everything I wasn't, and he moved through life not caring about the standards and expectations others put on him, because he knew his own value. He wasn't tied down by ' _families'_ who thought they knew best… most of all… he _understood me._ I fell in love with him immediately".

Yozora remained quiet and attentive, letting the upperclassman get it all off of his chest in the safety of the private Elite Ten Viewing box.

"Soon after meeting, we hung out together often and each moment we had was electric and I couldn't get enough of him. He was my light and I was sure that I would follow him wherever he would go. He was always exercising new ideas for a culinary business, new recipes and research into food marketing. I loved the curiosity and hunger he had for knowledge and the strategies he came up with to better Japan's food industry. Being with him and listening to him liberated something inside me and I fell for him over and over every day. We did everything together, we did anything and everything for each other. Until one day I cobbled enough courage to confess to him, and he said we felt the same. It was the best feeling to have someone love you back in a world you felt you weren't _designed_ for. We kept our relationship a secret. We were _in love…_ Well, at least _I_ was…".

Yozora had a bad feeling about this dark turn they were heading.

"One day, he asked me for some money. A hundred thousand- _yen_. He talked a lot about creating his own consultancy business for a few months prior, about how he was going to set it up, how he'd establish his clientele, about how he'd make a difference for small business owners who needed help to get their foot into the culinary world, and about how he was going to make it the most successful consultancy business in Japan. The only thing was that he needed money to invest in it. Of course I gave it to him, from the Isshiki household accounts. I wanted to do anything to help him achieve his dreams".

Yozora closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, keeping his anger in check for Isshiki _-senpai's_ sake.

"He paid me back in full within a month each time he asked for money. I didn't see a problem with it, I suppose. He was so happy when he told me about the small profits he'd made in starting off small and his business was slowly growing. It made me happy too. I wanted to continue to support him in everything he did. His happiness, was my happiness. Then he started asking for more…"

Yozora couldn't believe his ears.

"A hundred thousand became two hundred thousand, and two hundred thousand became four hundred thousand. But they were always paid back in full within the month. After about a year into his consultancy business, he started paying me back _more_ than what I'd given him".

Yozora narrowed his eyes. What…?

"When I asked why, he said it was a small gift for me helping him for his business start-up. Again… I didn't see anything wrong with that, but in the end I was such a fool to believe him. One afternoon, when I was looking for some documents I had lent Eizan-kun in his office; I came across some curious memos in his drawers. I'd discovered that six months into lending him money, he'd been investing them _not_ in his business but in the stock market exchange. That was when he'd been making exceptional profits, using the money _I gave him._ Then I found the margins for his business was too great for it to be naturally made too. Soon, I found all sorts of things in his portfolio without meaning to. He'd gotten his hands on insider information so that he knew what dividends to buy and sell, ahead of time, and in turn put that back into his business. I confronted him about why he was using the money I gave him in this way, he just didn't care what I had to say about it… I was _very hurt"._

Of course he would be _fucking_ hurt! Yozora pinched the bridge of his nose fighting the urge to punch and kick something. Eizan- _senpai_ mercilessly took advantage of Isshiki- _senpai's_ feelings for him! He didn't love him at all. He'd _used_ him! Isshiki- _senpai_ gave him his family's money in good faith and he abused it by gambling it on the stock market using _insider trading_. Even though he gave back the sum to Isshiki _-senpai_ with some extra cash, it was still a betrayal of his trust and fucking _criminal_. A whole slew of huge problems could be born from that act alone and not only that, Isshiki- _senpai's_ family could be _implicated_ since they were the fucking source of the money. Yozora swallowed the fury and it grew in his belly until it burned his insides as hot as any dragon's flame… on the person who _dared_ to abuse something as pure and good as _love._

"I wanted all of it to stop. I was so furious, upset and hurt that he would do something like that to himself and to me. I wanted to break it off with him, but he wouldn't let me. He said that because the money was from me, then if he fell, he would bring me and my family down with him as I had indirectly become the beneficiary for his schemes. That's when I realised that he had _never_ loved me in the first place… The _pain_ of realising… Mitsunaga-kun… was _incomparable_ to any other pain I've ever felt, even worse than finding out that he'd lied for so long. I wanted to _die_ ".

Yozora too, felt his heart break. He hung onto Isshiki- _senpai's_ every word that dripped with venom. There was something in that bitter, cracking voice behind it that became too obvious. He watched. He watched Isshiki- _senpai's_ eyes and he knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain and heartbreak, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely and desperate. Yozora breathed in really slowly.

"Growing up in high society in Japan… and as the sole heir for the House of Isshiki… and _having feelings…_ for the same sex, was something that is inconceivable in the circles I live in. So hiding my… unbecoming inclinations… became survival, and even though suppressing it was impossible, I still tried to extinguish it… just _be normal_ the way my family expects me to be. But somehow I couldn't let go. I always lived my life dreaming that there would be hope, no matter how infinitesimal it was, that I can somehow find my own happiness in what that felt right in my heart. So when Eizan-kun _accepted_ me for who I am and said he _loved_ me also in return. I felt I could _live_ ".

Yozora shook his head. What could he fucking say?

"Now I just speak to Eizan-kun when I have to, such as for the Elite Ten matters, or class matter".

"Does he still ask you for money?".

"Yes".

 _Fucking hell!_

"I use my own account. He said if I didn't do as he wanted or if I got in his way, he'd reveal everything to my family. Our relationship… How much of a failure of a _man_ I am".

"You're not a failure in any way" Yozora scooted closer, but Isshiki- _senpai_ turned his head away. "The only thing you're guilty of is _loving_ him unconditionally. We can't help who we fall in love with, right? It's just a shame that he's a fucking manipulative arsehole… but that's not your fault either".

He just sat there, his arms almost withdrawn into himself and his knees pressed together. Eizan- _senpai_ threatening to use Isshiki- _senpai's_ sexual orientation against him _and_ using it as leverage was down-right sick and evil. Yozora wasn't sure if Isshiki- _senpai_ heard anything of what he said. His eyes just glazed over as he stared out onto the stadium for Ibusaki's judging but not taking anything in. Even The Great smart, cunning and tenacious Seventh Seater Isshiki- _senpai_ was not infallible. He was still human. Something as both wholesome and cruel as _love_ blinded his best judgement to the point of _dumb_ selflessness for such an insufferable, selfish and self-serving prick. The loneliness and desperation he must've felt in the conflict of accepting or rejecting his own sexual identity must've made him a vulnerable prey for Eizan- _senpai_ and the despicable student fed Isshiki- _senpai's_ crave for love and acceptance for his own selfish ends.

"Do you think I'm a fool for still loving him… even though it hurts so much?", asked Isshiki- _senpai._

Yozora shook his head. "It hurts because what you feel in your heart is _real._ No-one can call you stupid for that".

"…".

He couldn't let this go. He _would not._ He started forming a plan. He thought of what might stop Eizan- _senpai_ from continuing to extort money from Isshiki- _senpai._ The business world was his playground more than the culinary one. So perhaps something in that realm could be used against him. Business was a fickle thing and was heavily governed by the law—.

' _Law…'_

Maybe…

An iron-clad non-disclosure agreement contract… and a counter threat for suing for extortion! It wasn't perfect and would take some work to come up with a full-proof plan, but it was definitely a start and possible for Isshiki- _senpai_ to come out of this with no further damages, and Eizan _-senpai_ on a tight leash. The four sealed files were still waiting to be put on the _shokugeki_ table, right? He figured out long ago that Mimasaka wanted the four sealed files not for himself, but for Eizan- _senpai._ The slimy and conniving snake was still trying to cheat his way into getting things he shouldn't have. He'd still want that, and Yozora was going to make him _pay_ for it.

It was handy to have an _NPC_ who was a lawyer who could whip up contracts whenever he wanted.

"Please, don't tell anyone".

Yozora jolted out of his thoughts. Suddenly his arm was captive in a tight and shaking grip. Nails bit into his skin, making Yozora turn to Isshiki _-senpai_ once more, bracing to be caught in some emotional fallout.

"Not to my Dorm, your _senpais,_ your friends, teachers, lecturers, the Elite Ten, The Director, Nakiri-kun. _Not_ anyone… No one must ever know about Eizan-kun and I… and about… how… h-how _I am_ …".

"I-I promise".

Isshiki- _senpai_ seemed to visibly relax but the exertion in relieving his brutally emotional past took a toll on him both mentally and physically. He released Yozora's arm from his death-grip and he rubbed the welts forming on his skin. His wavy and luscious hair had gone all limp and his face was pallid. His eyes were a sorry mess of emotions of pain, anger and regret and Yozora was sure that would continue to scar him for as long as time would allow.

Suddenly Isshiki- _senpai_ chuckled, devoid of mirth.

"So shrewd… Ishikagaku- _senpai_ is right about you".

' _Huh?'_

"One way or another, you always figure out what is in a person's heart, no matter how much they try to bury it or how much of it is in unrecognisable tatters. Everyone's soul is laid bare to you, whether it is on a plate, through the music, or from simply crossing paths with you. You have such a gift in reading people's inner most secrets".

Yozora got up. He turned to Isshiki- _senpai_ and made sure he looked him in the eyes.

" **I can't help it.** _ **I was**_ _ **born**_ _ **that way**_ **".**

Isshiki- _senpai_ held his gaze for a long drawn out moment before he looked down and away.

 _ **"Yes**_ … _**So was I".**_

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.

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* * *

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.

.

"I'm sorry, Nakiri… I can't tell you. _I gave Isshiki-senpai my word"._

Her face fell and she swallowed thickly. He hurt from _thinking_ those words alone.

"It's fine". She said stonily.

Yozora reached out and stroked her face, trying to get her to look at him. When he finally did, she did with some semblance of disappointment, at the same time there was a resolve and reluctant understanding.

"I don't like it when you keep things like this to yourself… in fact, I _loathe_ it _…_ but if you've made a promise to keep someone's secret and it makes me _so mad_ to be kept in the dark, when you're willing to get hurt for it _…_ Then at least it means you have _integrity_ … and I-I guess, I don't want you to change that for anything… even for me… But if you get hurt for it again, I won't take it lying down!".

"Fuck, I love you so much".

"Hmmph?!".

Yozora didn't give two shits about his sore back and just swooped into Nakiri for the kiss he desperately wanted. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her up close against his chest. His hand hastily found its way to her hair, as he kissed her and the world fell away. She continued to surprise and amaze him. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her small ears, his calloused thumbs caressing her soft cheeks as their breaths mingled. Her shaking fingers clutched at his blazer, caught between pulling and pushing him away until her fingers slackened and flattened themselves on his chest and slowly slid up to his nape. He gently sucked at her bottom lip one last time before he pulled away against the agony of wanting to dive for her again.

Nakiri panted against him, hot and flushed.

"Y-You have a match to g-get ready for!".

Her pink tongue darted out to swipe at the light coating of his saliva on her lips. Oh _fuck._

"Y-Yeah. I uh… I need to get my painkillers f-from Kasai- _senpai_ first".

"What is he, your nanny?".

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* * *

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Yozora unpacked his wireless ear pieces and inserted them comfortably into his ears. He checked the smartphone secured around his left arm and made sure that his _chosen_ track was ready to go. The judges for this afternoon were different to last time. _Tootsuki Culinary Academy_ was only but one of the branches of the _Tootsuki Group. Tootsuki Group_ was a sprawling organisation comprised of many divisions, all lead by The Director of the Group, also the head of the Nakiri Clan.

The Education Division – Tootsuki Culinary Academy.

Production Division – Ingredient storage and distribution.

Tourism Division – Tootsuki Resorts and hotels.

Research and Development – Nakiri International.

Overseas Division.

Communications.

Administration.

Each division worked tirelessly in co-operation with the others to run the giant that was Tootsuki Group. It was tradition for the heads of each division to take turns judging _Autumn Elections_ match. Today, there was Nakiri Senzaemon as the head judge and Chef Doujima. Finally, the last judge was the head of the institute's Research and Development Division.

Leonora Nakiri.

She was the epitome of beauty as she sat regally in the judges' chair. Yozora gulped as he waited at the entrance of the tunnel. He'd heard rumours about her. First and foremost, she was Nakiri Alice's mother and Nakiri's aunt. She had the whitest skin ever, as a Dane. Nakiri International was founded as the research and development arm of the Tootsuki Group. As an academic corporation, it employed the latest in technology and scientific theory to drive new advancements in food science and he one who directed and over saw the entire operation was Leonora Nakiri. It was like the phrase 'beauty and brains' was made just for her. She was a vision to behold. Overly tall, slender and her willowy frame was like a super model. Her ruby-red eyes were calm and emotionless as she patiently waited for his and Hayama's match to start. She had long platinum hair, so smooth and silky, almost tailored from the moon's fabric. Her snow-white skin glowed beneath the hot stadium lights. She sat with the grace and radiance of a Queen. He saw a lot of similarities in looks between her and Nakiri Alice. Alluringly, she would blink her eyes from time and time, her snowy lashes kissing her cheeks. She had all the males in the stadium spellbound.

Yozora spotted the emcee walking onto the stage. He looked up.

* * *

 **光永** **夜空** **vs** **葉山** **アキラ**

 **Mitsunaga Yozora VS Hayama Akira**

* * *

Three hours ago, it was 'Yukihira Souma vs Kurokiba Ryou' displayed up there.

Who would've thought that Yukihira and Kurokiba tied.

In his matches, Kurokiba's dishes have always been an _umami_ bomb. It made sense that the next step would be an explosion of fragrance. He had made a _**sanma cartoccio**. _The ingredients he used were almost identical to _acqua pazza,_ but when he wrapped up his dish with the heat resistant film, he trapped all the _umami_ and _fragrance._ But not all _sanma_ have that much flavour in season, so clever Kurokiba had added herbed butter to his _sanma cartoccio._ Finely chopped herbs and spices were mixed into softened butter and then wrapped up and chilled in the fridge until the flavours were allowed to meld. Kurokiba had stuck it into each _cartaccio_ before putting them in the oven, baking on low heat so that the butter could slowly melt and its richness seeped into every nook and cranny of the dish.

Listening to Nakiri Leonora change from broken Japanese to Japanese-Shakespeare-Incarnate was down right mind blowing.

Then there was Yukihira Souma…

He'd missed the beginning of the match obviously, but according to Hayato-kun, he'd brought in something _nasty._ He had pulled it out of this tub covered in pile of gross-looking gunk he'd packed his _sanma_ in. It turned out, it had been _nuka rice bran!_ Essentially, it was pickled _sanma._ Yozora had once heard that it was local foodstuff in _Hokkaidou._ Pickled _sanma_ was common in _Hokkaidou._ Like _Kushiro, akkeshi_ and _nemuro,_ where it was a traditional and well-loved dish. Pickling pike in a rice-bran mash called _nuka_ deepened its _umami_ flavours, ameliorates any fishy smells and even increases its nutritional value. Some fisherman down in _Kirigakure no Ichiba_ claimed that it was the best way to eat _sanma._ From that, he'd made _**sanma takikomi gohan**_ _._ The judges reactions for his dish had been just as incredible, but the only difference was that Director Nakiri didn't disrobe and Nakiri Leonora's speech pattern went right back to broken Japanese. As a cheesy stunt derived from mad showmanship, Yukihira had announced that his dish wasn't done yet and had poured a thick, white and creamy broth over his rice. It'd looked a little like what he did for his _nori bentou_ during Nakiri Alice's match… either way, The Director's robes exploded off of his body with all the supernatural force in the world. Yukihira had revealed that he mixed a dash of parmesan cheese, _shiromiso_ paste into soy milk and simmered it lightly. It transformed from _**sanma takikomi gohan ojiya-style**_ to bring a new height.

Then finally Nakiri Leonora shed her accent and her Japanese became impeccable for Yukihira too. They both ended up tied because _none_ of the judges could decide who to favour. The judges refused to make a decision until they came to terms with their judgements. It had created such an uproar and the Autumn Elections Committee was thrown into indecision as to what to do to resolve the tie.

They had decided to come up with a decision to resolve the deadlock whilst he and Hayama had their battle.

" _Ladies and gentleman, thank you for waiting! The next semi-finals match is about to start and the theme for this match is_ _ **marron**_ _! Please put your hands together for our contenders Hayama Akira and Mitsunaga Yozora!"._

Yozora hit 'noise-cancelling' and everything drowned into oblivion, waiting for _**Track 58.**_ He was awashed with another sea-faring theme, except this time it was a lot more relaxed, calm and tranquil as he was only on the shore feeling the sea-breeze whoosh up the cliffs and into his face. He entered the stadium with Hayama Akira coming from the other end. He watched the panther throw him a condescending look before taking up his side of the stadium.

" _You have two hours. Begin cooking now!"._

The vibrations of the gong passed through him.

He hit 'play'. The light and playful acoustic guitars and the drums bounced along with his rhythm. The supporting piano filled the tune with a richness that filled him.

Yozora moved fast. He was going to start with the _**mushroom stock**_ first. It was an incredibly time consuming process and filled with a lot of steps, but he had to get this perfect and right as he depended on it to support the _marron_ flavours. Once he conquered that he moved onto preparing his _**marinated and smoked shiitake mushrooms**_ **.** He combined the _dashi, mirin, tamari_ and white soy for the marinated mix and tossed the shiitake mushrooms in together until they evenly coated. He'd gotten the _hibachi grill_ ready and he grilled them carefully, groups at a time, turning them over the hot coals until they were beautifully charred and smoked. Then he put them back into the marinade and sealed them all into a vacuum bag, placing them into one of the prepared water bags. While that was happening, next was the _**pickled dulse.**_ He reached for the chardonnay vinegar, but instead his fingers brushed passed the bottle towards the _madeira._

' _What? I thought I heard…. Nothing never mind"._

Yozora shook his head, just a lousy overshoot of his limbs, nothing more. He was back on rhythm. He worked on his _pickled dulse_ , making sure that all the pieces were coming together for this element until something passed through the mastoid bone, under his ears.

' _I don't feel so good…'_

He was suddenly hit with a bout of nausea, making his feet tense up to keep balance. What the hell? The music in his ears kept pumping, reminding him that he needed to stay on task. But something wasn't right. There was a droning at the back of his head, buzzing along with the music. It was there and then it was gone. Yozora tried to concentrate on the last part of his pickled dulse, getting ready to move onto _**smoked confit cauliflower**_.

He shook his head. No, it was just his imagination. His rhythm and timing being off was just the fact that his nerves were getting the better of him. Once he got that under control. He would be fine.

' _I'll be fine'._

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* * *

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"Uh, guys? Mitsunaga-kun doesn't look so hot".

Hayato squinted at his friend. Yeah, Isami-kun was right. The Polar Star members stopped cheering and collectively leaned forward. Soft murmurs of confusion wafted from their lips. There were slight put poor _staccatos_ in Yo-kun's movements as if he was briefly hesitant or confused about something, and then jammed into action. Hayato had never seen that before. They were more than halfway through the match before his hand started over shooting ingredients, or he rushed towards something as if he'd forgotten how long he timed it for.

' _Something's wrong… Yo-kun is off-key and off rhythm!'._

He had been working on his _**mushroom consommé**_ for his exquisite _marron_ dish now and so Hayato's worry started to mount higher and higher until he couldn't ignore the niggling feeling that Yo-kun was going to be in huge trouble. Like the premonition of a nightmare, he watched in abject horror as Yo-kun froze up altogether!

"What's happening…!".

Yo-kun took a shaky step back, away from the kitchen and the pot simmering on the stove.

Then another…

Then another…

Then another…

The whole crowd were on the edge of their seats, watching this whole thing play out like a suspenseful horror movie. The judges started rising from their seats, looking over the stadium with confusion and concern. Fuck, even Hayama stopped cooking to throw in a confused and disturbed look at Yo-kun! Like watching a possessed body, his hands reached up to his ears, his eyes were wide and fearful.

 _He screamed and dropped to his knees._

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* * *

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" _ARRRRGGHHHH-!"_

His head imploded with _pain, pain, pain._ The screeching static and cacophony of white nose exploded against his eardrums and split his head with so much pain that his body, convulsed and caved in under the pressure and his knees crashed down. His palms slammed against his ears, scratched and pulling, digging his fingers deep inside to fling out his ear pieces out which skated across the stadium floor. The music he had been listening too had been making him feel sick for the past hour, it had _never done that before!_ There was something different about the track! As if there was something wrong with its musicality and make up, but the pitch, timing, rhythm, notes, keys, volume, contour, tone were the same as when he'd always practiced. What had changed?! What did he miss?! The answer eluded him and Yozora retched, but his empty stomach gave him nothing but bile. The dizziness was merciless as the full ringing in his ears continued to beat his senses up.

He managed to push up onto his haunches and his vision was seared with the stadium lights. He was confused and spiralled with dizziness, what was going on? What was he doing just now? Muffled buzzes brushed past his ears, but not reaching the auditory cortex at all. People were yelling and shouting, but not a single sound reached him, instead auditory hallucinations replaced them in a poor mimicry of what his eyes tried to compensate with whilst reading their many lips, filling the gaps. Sweat poured from his forehead and his ears felt wet and continued to ring incessantly, further disorienting him. The deeper crevices of his ears throbbed and his head pulsed, causing a monstrous headache to torture him too.

Yozora tiredly turned around and saw Hayama shouting something at him from across the opposite kitchen station. His lips flapped wildly but not a sound came out of them. His green eyes were blazed with worry just like everyone else in the stadium, he abandoned his own cooking too. Yozora squinted his eyes at him, straining to hear or even read his lips, trying to push through the aching in his ears as the ringing continued to plague him, with no music to comfort him anymore.

' _I-I can't hear anything!'._

Yozora reached shakily back onto his feet, he tried to wipe off the sweat, but when he reached up to his ears. He felt a warm stickiness that confounded him.

He pulled his finger away to look.

He saw a blood.

Slowly, like rising up way too fast through the deep waters to the surface, his ears exploded against with noise, as the deafness abated and the muffled vibrations became sharp and clear screeches. The crowd were on their feet yelling, Hayama was yelling at him to see if he was okay. The events officials were scurrying around, yelling something about Kishitani- _sensei,_ the Tootsuki school doctor to immediately come to _Chandra's Hall, Heaven's Moon Arena._ Yozora spun around overwhelmed with the noise, lights that assaulted his highly sensitised ears.

Too much noise! Too much noise!

Suddenly his heart seized up with fear.

' _FUCK! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP COOKING?!'._

His ear pieces, lied across the stadium, discarded. He couldn't do this… no he couldn't… not without his music! He couldn't cook without his music! Full blown fear and punched him in the gut and dunked him ice-cold realisation that he was utterly useless! Shortage of breath was his first sign of descending into panic. He was breathing, but air just wouldn't go in, like his lungs were surrounded by metal bands. He hyperventilated and scratched desperately at his ears, streaking whatever blood he felt over the side of his head and into his hair. He looked around him… at the people's faces and then he –

 **" _YOZORA!"_**

A deafening and beastly roar thundered from across the stadium. Yozora whipped around and stared straight into the burning amber eyes of the final member of _The Guild._

' _TSURUGI-SENPAI?!'._

 _Tsurugi-senpai was back?!_

The huge third year student looked wilder than ever. His thick chestnut mane was tied back into a half pony-tail and he sported a new tribal patterned, shave design on the side of his head. His huge form dwarfed the Polar Star Dorm members as he dominated the front row with his huge presence and body. His impressive bulking muscles strained against the muscle shirt he wore, which was usually under his school shirt, but he had forgone it. His ferocious expression and snarling mouth revealed sharp teeth as he glared daggers at Yozora. His chiselled, square jaw was covered in a thin layer of a five'o'clock shadow, making him look more menacing and primal than he ever was. It felt like forever since he'd seen him, before the _Preliminaries!_

Tsurugi- _senpai_ cupped his thick hands over his lips and roared.

" _What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Forget the fucking earpieces! You don't need to HEAR the actual music to cook! Have you forgotten everything Kasai and I've taught you?!_ _ **The music is in your heart!**_ _Listen to your heart and you can do this! Don't give up, you hear me?!"_

Yozora heard him loud and clear. He pulled everything he had together and raced back to the kitchen station. He quickly but thoroughly washed his hands, fighting the head aches and the ever present ringing in his ear from driving him mad. Listen to his heart. Listen to his heart. The music was already in his heart. All he needed to do was remember the music by heart, and convert that back into his cooking. He could do this. He could do this, right?

Yozora thought of what he could do to salvage the part of his cooking that were over-cooked or burnt thanks to his trip into deaf-hell. He looked over to Hayama, who was still on standby, but attending to his own kitchen. The tall, tanned student nodded at him, still a bit unsure but signaled that he would still respect his decision to compete with no handicaps. Yozora could read the audiences and the judges' astonishment that he'd chosen to keep cooking instead of bailing out.

He shut the pain out as best as he could, focusing on conjuring the music from his heart, completely bypassing his bleeding ears.

' _I didn't come this far to be told off by Tsurugi-senpai…!'_

* * *

 **Welcome aboard the Isshiki Pain-Train! We are well on our way to our final destination which is off the fucking cliff. Please fasten your seat belts and snacks cart will shortly be going up and down the aisle before plummeting.**

 **YOZORA! Haul ass! You have to finish your dish no matter what! I will** _ **not**_ **have an OC of mine that's gonna quit half way through even if their arms have been ripped off! Stirring can be done with your feet if it has too! Kidding aside, Yozora will be fine (no he won't).**

 **Oh welcome back Tsurugi-senpai, it's nice of you to join us. I wouldn't be surprised if most of you forgot about him. Do you remember the reason for his absence?**

 **Lately I'm finding new reasons to be nervous with each chapter, as I break my limits and comfort zones. It's enjoyable and I love the thrill, but it still causes tiny delightful butterflies in my stomach when I think about how readers will respond to my new chapter posts. Please let me know what you guys think and I'll see you soon!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	20. Impending Peril

_Chapter 20 - Impending Peril_

* * *

 _ **Semi Finals**_

Yozora hauled his arse back to his kitchen stadium.

His head was killing him and deep inside his ears, it felt like his eardrums or the inner ear system had been shredded into pieces. It was a miracle that he could still hear so he had a flimsy _sliver_ of peace-of-mind that organically, they were still in one piece. He felt the thread in him twanged by sharp finger-nails, almost breaking the only thing that held him together, into two. He was in pain, he was without his music and his cooking was going to fall into a shambles if he didn't step up to it! Nothing could get any worse now.

" _STOP THE CLOCK!"._

 _Fuck!_ The whole auditorium swelled up with gasps and then the silence prevailed as nobody dared to utter a single sound. Yozora froze, paralysed and fearful for what was about to drop. _Kami-sama,_ this wasn't happening. The heavy booming voice commanded the air as it immediately stilled and collapsed onto his shoulders, oppressive beyond belief. The voice sank into every cell in his body and wrapped him up like a vice. Yet, the vibrating power and command that seeped his deep and gruff voice made the air shake with his authority.

Yozora slowly looked up.

The imposing Director Nakiri Senzaemon dominated the stage with his large palm held up.

Time stopped at his command.

Yozora stared at him, wide-eyed and shaking in his shoes. Realisation started to dawn upon him and the fear became overwhelming, causing his breathing and his heart to become erratic, trapping his voice in his throat which desperately wanted to yell out and beg. No, no, no, _no!_ This was _not_ happening! Sweat continued to spill from every pore in his body. Something flashed from the corner of his eyes and he whipped his head in that direction. Panic flared up and a militia of chills mercilessly ripped across his skin. Instincts bellowed at him to defend and protect himself, fight back as the school physician, Kishitani- _sensei_ , was climbing onto the stage, and Yozora was his prey.

" _NO! I don't need a doctor!"._

He bared down, flung his hand out, holding it up as if to force his sheer will into his palm and projecting it out to the young, bespectacled doctor. His footing shifted backwards, as if about to be cornered. He clenched his teeth and groaned, but it came out as a ferocious growl from the shot of pain making his vision momentarily tunnel. The movement of the joint in his jaw at his ears sent an agonising pulse into both sides of his head. He also felt the slow trickle of the sticky, red coppery liquid still leaking out of his ears, clinging to his hot sensitive skin. This wasn't fair! He didn't need to be pulled out! Yozora was desperate to maintain every semblance of the little control he had left in this madness. The doctor halted, and screwed his brows together. Yozora could see it. He could _fucking_ see that the school doctor thought he was crazy. Maybe he _was!_ But he was in too much _fucking_ pain to care. He made it this far, to cook on the big stage in front of everyone in the semi-finals and he still hadn't proved himself enough! _The Guild_ wasn't taken seriously enough yet! There was no way he was going to let anyone drag him away from all the hard work he'd put himself through, even if he was bleeding out of every orifice!

The school doctor stepped forward again and Yozora drove his point home by taking _more_ steps back to put _more_ distance between them, his wild eyes were intent trained on him, and with his arms held up, ready to defend himself should the school doctor keep advancing to grapple him off the stage. The physician stopped and nervously looked up at the Director, questions in his eyes as if looking to the 'All-Powerful' to tell him what to do.

" _Mitsunaga Yozora"._

The director's voice rumbled like a storm deep inside of him, powerful enough to send another wave of chills through his body, forcing him to relinquish his obsessive focus on the doctor and to him.

"You are in no condition to continue".

" _Please!"._ He begged. Yozora had no choice but to beg.

The Director's sage face was expressionless and as cold as the darkest winter night. He looked down on him from the judging panel. His eyes were twin pools of deep abysses lined by faint grey rings, signifying his old age and therefore wisdom. His muscular arms now hung by his side as he dwarfed the two other judges on his side, making them look like acolytes in his enormous temple. Those eyes tore through him just like the piercing static and white noise from his malfunctioned earpieces that earlier shot through his ears like a witch's cursed scream. He was under The Director's full judgement.

"I can do this, Nakiri- _dono…_ I can keep going…! Please let me keep cooking! _Let me finish this_ … _!"_ , Yozora yelled.

His voice cracked and broke, his desperation winning him over as he considered even grovelling to be allowed to keep cooking if he didn't get through to The Director. Tears began to well up in his eyes, stinging with the pain of possibly having this taken away from him too. He bit them back, refusing to let them fall. No, he wasn't going to break-down and cry, he had to hold it together. He owed himself that much! He prayed _Kami-sama_ would give him a second chance… but he had the undeniable feeling that the divine powers had no power to save him… only The Director held his fate in the palm of his hand and _Kami-sama_ could do nothing but watch.

"Should you choose to continue as you are now, you will not get any special allowances or consideration from the judges. Whatever pain or injuries you bear and continue to inflict upon yourself for the remaining time will not sway us. Your dish will be evaluated as is and you will receive the full weight of our judgement. Do you understand?".

Instead of lowering his head or be intimidated by the consequences if he chose to go down that path, Yozora stared back with resolute and fathomless raw sapphires, a hot fiery storm carved into his own dark blue eyes. Stony determination blurred his sight and he sold himself to those merciless conditions without a second thought.

"…Yes".

The Director stared back.

"Then so be it. _RESTART THE CLOCK!"._

The crowd shattered with mixed cheers and yells of defiance for his preposterous actions, and Yozora had no choice but to take it all in. He left his earpieces abandoned on the stage floor, it could only do him more harm at this point as much as it was painful to believe. He didn't have time to think about what the _fuck_ had happened with them, he had his _**sherried marron**_ to rescue.

He stumbled from one end of the kitchen to the other, trying his best to check all the elements he had and how much left he had to do. The _mushroom consommé_ was going to be a fucking disaster if he didn't keep up on top of it but with the noise and lights assaulting him from all angles, it was an impossible task to keep his wits about him as he tried to figure out how much time he'd irrevocably lost from his hellish experience with his own culinary art turning around and stabbing him in the back. With each step and each move of his arms as he gathered the ingredients back together, his stomach tightened. He kept swallowing, and his throat squeezed. The dizziness was mostly gone and he felt his mind started to level out, however he still couldn't stop the after effects of the warm feeling of something foul rising through his chest. He could almost taste it at the back of his mouth.

" _L-Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Mitsunaga Yozora has partially recovered from… Uh –Uh I'm not sure what had happened with him, but Director Nakiri has allowed the match to officially resume with an hour left to go!"._

The music in his heart… the music in his heart… the music in his heart… the music in his heart. What the hell?! He fought the instincts that wrestled his higher mental functions to make his hands grab the headphones that _wasn't_ occupying his neck, like a missing limb feeling phantom sensations. Had he been this fucking _dependent_ on the music to cook this whole time?! Anger and shame mixed into the cocktail of volatile emotions that tortured him. He was angry with himself. He couldn't swallow it, even now. The unforgiving realisation of how _useless_ he was without his music drowned him and sickened him with humiliating disgust. His brain was full of bits and pieces flying around with all these fragmented _notes_ and _sections_ of the track, jumbled up and rearranged by the devil's whims, no clue where to start again.

' _Calm down. Think. Focus… Tsurugi-senpai is right. I know the music by heart. I've listened to it countless of times. I can do this. I'm a musician… go back to basics. I can hold a song in my head, I've already analysed it and dissected it. I can do it again without hearing it. Yes, that's it. Rearrange it. Which bar was I up to? Which loop was I on?"_

Yozora gripped the kitchen bench and clenched his eyes shut, tuning out the audience as best as he could. His arms shook as he forced himself to breathe and get his heart under control.

He listened to his heartbeat…

The rhythmic pulse slowed…

… It steadied…

… It opened …

… It bared its inside…

… It sang…

… It played…

… His heart… _became the music._

The song's emotions flooded him and he was born anew.

' _Fuck it! I control the music now!'._

His _mushroom stock_ already had the button and shiitake mushroom paste mixed in and was just waiting for the _consommé raft_ , so he immediately got started on that. He cracked and separated his eggs into yolks and whites. He added the whites to the stand mixer and he rapidly whisked that until the egg whites fluffed up into soft peaks. Then he added the egg whites into the chilled mushroom stock and whisked it further until it combined. It took on a latte hue as the whites were stained with brown. Then he grabbed his stick-blinder and blitzed it up until it came fully emulsified and frothy on the top. It began to look hideous, like the sea foam filled with particles of human waste and debris was rising to the surface from the bowels of hell. He stopped blending and place it over low heat until it simmered gently and the froth wobbled a bit. He took out a wooden spoon and stirred it in a figure eight motion, slowly and surely so nothing stuck at the bottom as the pot until that _consommé raft_ began to thicken, coagulate and set.

The whipped egg white _consommé raft_ was supposed help clarify and make it a _consommé._ It would make it beautiful so he needed to be really careful with the raft. At the end, it needed to be super-clear, not cloudy at all. A trail of sweat dripped past his brow and he sucked his breath as his ears caved into another aching pulse, almost making him break the _consommé raft_ too early. Shit. He had not time for more disasters.

Finally, his heart told him it was time to make a hole in the _raft_ and he ladled the _consommé_ out of the pan and passed it through an ultra-sieve. He demanded his shaky hands to work for him. He discarded the _raft_ and weighed out enough _consommé_ into another clean pot. He returned it to heat and he worked to reduce the clarified _mushroom_ _consommé_ to enough and seasoned it the way he practiced. His stomach stopped flipping so much, but the constant movement and pressure was making it wake up and gurgle, just deep in his gut, not becoming anything serious, but he feared that it might take him by surprise in the most crucial moment.

' _Okay, leave that there. Next is the_ _ **Madiera Pickled Enoki Mushrooms'.**_

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"Man, Mitsunaga's got guts to keep going despite bleeding out of his ears. What the hell happened anyway?". Souma bit his thumbnail.

"I dunno, but it's got something to do with his earpieces. Something's gotta be wrong with them. I've got our _NPC_ to run a remote diagnostics now and I'm just waiting to hear back from her", said Ginsekai.

Remote diagnostics? Was that a thing? Souma just nodded and knitted his crimson brow. Ginsekai had already revealed to him that ever since Mitsunaga and Mimasaka had a private discussion in his room, they had this _Computer Cracker_ person to screw Mimasaka's plans over for their _shokugeki_ as a _quest_. Apparently, she was an _NPC_ and a temperamental one at that, so they only asked her for help if it was dire. It was mind-boggling and Souma didn't even fully understand the technicalities of their plan or their networking abilities, but that was okay because it worked out in the end and Mitsuanga had successfully leveled out the playing field for his quarter finals match. That was all truly well and fine, but Souma was disturbed nonetheless that _The Guild_ had connections to people like The Cracker whom they could call for help anytime and these _NPCs_ had to do everything they wanted with or without reward. He reminded himself to never get on their bad-side.

"Oh _Kami-sama,_ I hope Mitsunaga-kun will be okay", shuddered Megumi.

"This is unbelievable! How could he keep going like this?", added Yuuki.

"He's going to do this without listening to his music too, that's his strength, isn't it?", asked Marui-kun.

"I know, he's setting himself up to fail…", commented Ibusaki-kun.

"No, his strength isn't the music, it's his _heart_ ", said Souma.

His dorm just looked at him, not really knowing what to say. He ignored them. His eyes fell upon the small black spots sitting on the stage floor… the abandoned earpieces. Ginsekai had also told him that The Cracker was the one who customised, reprogrammed and reverse-engineered the earpieces that all _The Guild_ members wore when they cooked so that it had additional features like noise-cancelling, hearing boost adjustable to different environments and audio transparency, auto-calibrate, and directional hearing. These state-of-the-art pieces of tech connected via Bluetooth to _The Guild's_ phones and each had its own app, created by The Cracker, which paired with the phones so that it was quick and easy to customise their features. While Mitsunaga's reputation and cooking hung in the balance, Ginsekai and The Cracker chick was working to figure out what went wrong.

"I was gone for just more than a month and when I return, everything goes to shit…".

Souma jolted from his position.

It was Yuujou Tsurugi, the other senior member of _The Guild._

The behemoth of a student beside him saw the shock register on his face before Souma could hide it. A small smile played on his feral lips, showing sharp canines peeking out. His voice was low and baritone making Souma believe he couldn't possibly be a high-school student with that height, physique and blatant oozing of testosterone cascading off of him. It'd been so long since Souma had seen or heard Yuujou- _senpai_ that he'd forgotten he'd existed all together. Where _did_ he go actually? But now he remembered him from the first time they'd met. He was seated backwards over a chair that could barely take his muscle weight in _The Guild's_ tiny clubroom. He had such a huge presence that demanded attention, not just from his body, but also the intimidating aura that he exuded and those burning amber eyes, always challenging. His mane of hair had been unruly and spilled down his shoulders. This time they were tied back in a half pony tail with a leather cord as if he'd spent a survival trial out in the wilderness, and the shaved sides of his head were sporting new designs as if he'd met some Wild-people and assimilated into their tribal society. The facial hair he had going on made him look a hell of a lot more masculine. He even looked like he'd been working out a lot during his absence as Souma was sure those muscles weren't _that_ big before!

He had the typical _alpha_ vibes.

"Do you think he's gonna make it?", asked Souma.

Yuujou- _senpai_ exhaled like a bull. "Your taste-buds plays tricks on you when you're stressed, so that's another problem Yozora's got now".

Souma shook his head feeling all the pity in the world for the gamer chef. He'd got it. That meant things looked _really_ slim. Mitsunaga was a chaotic flurry over his kitchen station, as ingredients were warped from one spot to another, and elements were being prepped and put aside or in the fridge as fast as possible. Just like he had, Mitsunaga had been practicing his recipe inside and out during the ten-day intermission, so Souma was confident that Mitsunaga would regain is 'timing' and 'rhythm' since it was supposed to be second nature. But now he wasn't so sure… Yuujou- _senpai_ was right… the most important sense for a chef was compromised for Mitsunaga. Even if he taste-tested and sampled his elements along the way just to make sure everything was still okay, it might not be that helpful, as the possibility of a twisted sense of taste could throw off the dish's balance and he wouldn't even realise it! Mitsunaga was in a lot of trouble.

"No matter what the 'the song says', there's always the _musician's intuition_ to tell you how it should be played, in this case, it's the _chef's intuition._ Yozora has to take that on himself and judge how he's gonna fix and salvage the mistakes in his dish, and how he's gonna compress everything else within the time limit all without listening to the game track to orchestrate his cooking. Now he needs to rely on just his skills, no matter what the recipe in his head says or what his nose and tongue tells him".

Souma watched as Mitsunaga worked, down to the teeth. His movements were choppy and shaky. He couldn't imagine the pain that was still going through in his head and ears. The guy had screamed and dropped to the ground! He had gripped and tried to gouge his ears like an insane mental patient just earlier. Mitsunaga appeared to be making some sort of marinade. He was using a bottle of wine, herbs, white soy sauce, simmering it all in a saucepan. He'd been trimming his _enoki mushrooms._ Then he submerged them into a deep stainless steel tray and put it in the mini-fridge. Souma didn't know what dish Mitsunaga was making, so he had no idea if the gamer-chef was adlibbing, or staying true to his recipe and song. He'd come to learn that Mitsunaga always made complex and beautiful dishes and he wasn't so sure if he could pull it off this time. The intense concentration and desperation in Mitsunaga's eyes was so telling, that he was going to still try and swim out of the ravenous whirlpool that threatened to suck him into the abyss and drown him. His face paled rapidly and the blood had already dried and crusted over the opening of ears and down the side of his neck. There were even mottled dark-red splotches on both of his shoulders, meaning he had tried to wipe his ears with his shoulders, smearing the sticky blood on the crisp, white fabric.

"Yozora works well under pressure. He's usually able to pump out multiple elements at the same time. I think he'll be able to multi-task and catch back up", said Yuujou- _senpai_.

"I hope you're right", said Souma.

"Here comes the report!", yelled Ginsekai.

Souma turned around, anxious to hear what news _The Cracker_ had. Ginsekai put her on speaker phone and pumped up the volume. From the one-bench above them, The Aldini twins, his Dorm mates and Nikumi leaned in to hear, anxiously awaiting much needed news.

"What've you got?" asked Ginsekai.

" _Here's the thing"._

A disgruntled, yet worried female voice broke through.

 _"I ran the diagnostics and it hasn't detected any breaches over the Bluetooth bandwidths for the earpieces. Bluetooth is hard to hack into because of all the frequency hopping, but the earpieces were hijacked in some way. I accessed the black-box audio input and output history of the earpieces through the original microchip I had planted, and I found something interesting. There was another frequency playing parallel to the track Mitsunaga-kun was listening to. It looks like someone's smuggled another signal to play through the earpieces via a second separate connection, while it's still playing the original. I can't actually play it for you to hear because it's only seven hertz"._

"Seven… hertz?", asked Souma.

" _Who's that?"._

"None of your business", grunted Yuujou- _senpai._ "Seven hertz is a frequency that's way below the human range of hearing. Our ears can only hear between twenty hertz to twenty-thousand hertz".

" _Yeah, I'm looking at the wavelength on my screen now, there are no frequency modulations, so it's just a straight tone playing constantly, but its base volume goes up and down periodically. Even so, Mitsunaga-kun wouldn't be able to 'hear' it, but he could probably feel it and have no idea why"._

"Ah fuck", growled Yuujou-senpai. "Yozora is super-sensitive to _infrasound_ ".

"Infrasound?", asked Souma.

"They're sounds below the hearing threshold. Twenty-hertz and under. We can't hear them. One time we all went to the IMAX theatre together and Yozora came out throwing up his popcorn, ice-cream and soda at the end. He was sick for that whole evening. It was because the bass from the IMAX was so deep and strong, and the infrasounds, which are the huge amounts of inaudible low frequencies, from the sound systems that stuffed him up pretty badly".

"Yeah" added Ginsekai. "Some sounds can have really bad effects on the human body, like _infrasound_ and then _ultrasound_ which goes _above_ the human range of hearing. The _compression_ and _rarefaction_ of the particles in the air of these sound waves, and the intense pressure, when it hits the body, forces the body-cells to oscillate unnaturally. This causes things like headaches, pain, nausea, bad concentration, disorientation, dizziness and it's like being really seasick. Yo-kun's been exposed to that seven-hertz tone for about an hour!".

" _Guys? My diagnostics are also telling me that the earpieces are 'offline' and non-functioning. It's flat. I'm trying to remotely activate them, but nothing is waking up. The intensity of the low-frequency track must've been too much for the filter in the earpieces to handle and it ruptured the circuitry… WHILE STILL IN HIS EARS!… for fuck's sake…"._

"Then that explains why Yozora had a screaming breakdown. The rupture must've caused a huge burst of insanely high volume and _high_ -frequency feedback and he bled out of his ears". Tsurugi- _senpai_ growled.

"But he responded to your yelling and The Director! That means his eardrums haven't been ruptured! He can still _hear!_ ", yelled Ginsekai, hope springing forth in his eyes.

"Then that's his only saving grace, so the blood must've been from him scratching the insides of his ears to get the earpieces out. Poor bastard".

"How could someone hack in?", asked Ginsekai.

" _That's what worries me. The only way for that to happen is if someone's got their mits on his earpieces beforehand, opened it up and inserted a SECOND microchip into each earpiece. Remember, ordinary earphones and earpieces are just output devices, they don't hold information or data. The second microchip can allow the earpieces to be connected to a second device right under his nose to send a signal… Who the hell did Mitsunaga-kun piss off to earn him an_ _ **infrasonic attack?**_ _"._

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"Get out of my way, Isshiki- _senpai_! _Ojii-sama_ is crazy for letting him continue cooking. I need to stop this so Kishitani- _sensei_ can attend to him! _This is unethical!_ ".

Erina tried to push Isshiki- _senpai_ out of the way, but the taller student was steadfastly blocking the doorway of the Elite Ten Viewing box with his whole body. Both his arms spanned the width, holding the door frame tightly. Erina tried to duck under his outstretched arms, but his legs came up to help bar the gaps his body couldn't cover. Erina resorted to pushing her whole body against his, building up as much strength and momentum as she could muster to topple over the _senpai_ if she had to. But Isshiki- _senpai_ was much stronger and Erina finally gave into the exhaustion. She fixed him with a murderous glare, her frustration and anger at him spilling over the brim.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Nakiri-kun. If you stop the match, Mitsunaga-kun will _never_ forgive you".

Erina's voice choked back into her throat. Her eyes widened at him as if he had slapped her across the face. His sky blue eyes were hard and serious, so unfamiliar to how she normally saw him that she was instantly scared of what Isshiki- _senpai_ would do next. But what would _he_ know what Mitsunaga would forgive or not forgive?! Since when did Isshiki- _senpai_ speak for him?! She was absolutely torn. The weight of the brunette Seven Seater's words sliced up her heart. She forced herself to acquiesce.

"F-Fine!".

She had known immediately that something was wrong when Mitsunaga didn't execute his movements with the same level of grace, timing and finesse as she'd seen in the past matches, while he worked on his dish. She'd originally thought it had something to do with Eizan- _senpai_ attacking him in the corridor, but it didn't seem like it. Instead it appeared that for the first hour, he'd been… un-coordinated… His head had been turning around at weird moments as if he was hearing paranormal voices in his head and trying to figure out what they were mumbling. That should've been the second sign that some disaster was going to befall him. She'd then noticed that he was starting to get forgetful and careless which worried her more than annoyed her… like the mushroom stock was in the pressure-cooker, cooking for too long and then the marinade for the shiitake mushrooms had reduced far too much and became syrupy, instead of liquidy. It would make his dish too sweet and his mushroom stock too intense!

Then suddenly, when he'd frozen all movements and took three slow steps back away from his kitchen station, his eyes were wide with horror, that was when an evil chill encased her body and her stomach dropped at the same time as _he_ did. The scream that ripped from his throat reached Erina and it felt like a million needle stabs into her. Her hand had flown to her mouth as she'd stared petrified and horrified as Mitsunaga-kun writhed on his knees in agony and head in his hands. His eyes were clenched shut and his teeth were tight together and bared like a tortured wild animal. Then he'd dug his finger into his ears and yanked out his earpieces before tossing them across the stadium. Confusion mixed into the horror as Erina had tried to make sense of what had been happening. Her mind had already descended into swirling tatters. But when the camera panned closer to Mitsunaga, she saw the dark-red trickling of blood trailing out of his ears and it had, and was still, causing her heart to explode.

Isshiki- _senpai_ closed the door and herded her back to the couch. She flounced in it but got back up again, she couldn't sit still and her stomach kept flipping on itself. When _Ojii-sama_ announced to halt the match, she was undeniably relieved. But to her shock, Mitsunaga talked back to her Grandfather, insisting to keep going. Erina became absolutely furious! Was he crazy?! Why would do that?! He had been hurt and bleeding, he needed medical attention!

But the fear and dread in his eyes, as he begged her Grandfather… he was more scared of forfeiting the match than anything else in the world…

' _Why are you like this, Mitsunaga?'._

Erina gnawed on the insides of her cheek as she regretfully watched him push through and power on. He was far from his best as he pumped out elements after elements for his dish. Individually, they still looked good and well put together, but the only truth was how they tasted altogether at the end. Watching Mitsunaga made Erina feel really anxious and nervous. Adrenaline flooded her system and it pumped and beated like it was trying to escape. She was right at the window pane. There was only one thing she could do now and that was pray that nothing else happened to him.

"It's okay, Kishitani- _sensei_ is on immediate standby if anything else goes wrong".

Isshiki- _senpai's_ reassurance did little for her.

Mitsunaga had finally finished his _mushroom consommé_ and he was finally preparing the _**marron.**_ The _marron_ had to be the star of the dish. Their meat was really delicate to cook with. He blanched the over-sized yabbies, a trick they all learnt to peel the shell off more easily. Once he finished dunking them into the ice-cold water, he proceeded to peel the shells at lightning pace. He used scissors to cut along the underside of the tail piece to release the _marron_ tail from the splotchy scarlet shell, and then removed the intestinal tract with fish tweezers. He pierced some of the tail meat with metal skewers and others were left as is onto a tray and placed it all in the fridge.

Mitsunaga lifted his arm up to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his upper arm and resumed. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with stress and grey circles. Erina felt ill watching him too.

He was back to finishing off the _mushroom consommé._ It was like this element would never end. That was the thing, _everything_ depended on the _mushroom consommé_ , including the marron. As Erina watched, she noted that there was a galore of pressure points in this dish. The biggest one was the _consommé._ Mitsunaga had created a complex recipe again, and from what she saw, this was a very _classical_ recipe and it had a lot of great techniques in there. He _must_ be sure of what he was doing for this to succeed on the bare minimum. Erina counted that there had to be only a maximum of _ten_ elements in his dish and each part had to balance.

Mitsunaga heated up the clarified _mushroom consommé_ until it simmered and added in sliced button mushrooms and stirred it. Then he added _katsuoboshi_ and stirred it again. Finally when he was done, he passed the whole thing through a sieve, pressing the soft mushrooms down to extract all the excess liquid and then left the dark _consommé_ to cool again. Then he added some parsley, coriander, chervil and tarragon. He left it alone to infuse. While that happened, he cleared the rest of his kitchen to get ready for the next thing. Then he returned to the infused _consommé._ Mitsunaga moved with so much purpose and determination. He strained the _consommé_ with obvious physical exertion, and then added white soy, lemon juice and sugar, stirring it smoothly. He lifted the spoon to his lips to taste. He seasoned it further until he seemed satisfied before putting the _consommé_ into the blast chiller.

' _He's onto the next thing'._

The clear and spacious kitchen bench brought a fresh air of relief in Erina and she could see it had a positive effect on Mitsunaga too. He diced the reserved _marron_ tail meat into exact measurements; his hands were no longer shaking which brought more relief into Erina. He added brunoise shallots, walnut oil and pickled lemon into the bowl of diced marron, and very gently, he stirred it all together to mix evenly and fully combine the ingredients into a chunky paste.

' _Ah, he's making a_ _ **marron tartare**_ _"._

Then Mitsunaga added the raw diced mushrooms, chopped _pickled dulce_ with its dulce pickling liquid, white soy and salt and pepper. He continued to stir them gently to combine, his wrist movements were sure and committed. Finally he wrapped the bowl up and cling film and put it in the mini fridge.

Erina returned to the couch, beside Isshiki- _senpai_. He had an unreadable expression on his face. Then again, he was always unreadable even when smiling. She was feeling a little bit more at ease now that Mitsunaga was back to his usual pace, even if it was too far into the competition. He peeled a large grapefruit with his fingers and carefully peeled the membrane from the segments, being extra-careful not to rupture the individual cells of the pink flesh. He picked up the individual carpels of the grapefruit and left them aside. Next, he juiced some _yuzu_ and set it aside too. Mitsunaga grabbed his knife and pulled the remaining button mushrooms towards him. He got rid of the stalks and thinly sliced the mushroom caps into four pieces each. He put it in a glass bowl and lined the top with a damp paper towel and set it in the fridge too.

" _Twenty minutes to go!"._

Mitsunaga _must_ finish his dish now. Erina did a quick survey and ticked off her mental checklist of what she'd seen so far. He had _**smoked confit cauliflower**_ in the vacuum sealed bag on the bench. He had the _**Pickled Dulse**_ in a deep-tray, covered in cling film in the fridge. There was _**Pickled Diced Daikons**_ in the fridge too. There was the finished _**mushroom consommé**_ in a large saucepan in the fridge. He had a _**marron tartare**_ mix in a cling-film covered bowl in the fridge as well. Also inside the fridge were the _**grapefruit carpels**_ , _**chopped chervil leaves, yuzu juice, madeira pickled enoki mushrooms, marinated smoked shiitake mushrooms**_ in a vacuum bag and _**blanched marron tail**_ skewered and on a lined tray. There were also _**garnish sea-spray, ice plant leaves**_ and _**barilla leaves**_ on a tray covered in film. Finally, there were the _**baby button mushroom**_ slices he'd just thrown into the fridge.

' _Come one. You can do this…'_

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Damn, the emcee was really loud on the stage since the speakers were closer to him.

Yozora was in the final stretch of finishing up his dish. He fired up the _hibachi._ While that was happening, he took everything he needed out of the fridge. He finished off the _marron tartare_ with stirring the chervil and grapefruit carpels in them to evenly combine the ingredients. He played the one section over and over in his head, his heart now comfortably beating to the _tempo_ he listened from within. Then he added the yuzu juice and gently stirred, being careful not to let the acid cure the _marron_ meat. He covered it up and put it back in the fridge. He made quick work, feeling the seconds tick closer, nipping at his ankles. He took out the _smoked confit cauliflower_ florets from its vacuum sealed bag and the tantalising aroma of the brown butter made him salivate. He seared the brown-stained florets over the _hibachi_ so that just the top grilled nicely. The grill flamed up from the dripping butter and he had to carefully hover to-and-fro from it. Finally, it was golden-brown and evenly caramelised. He placed them onto a tray and into the oven for two minutes. When that was done, he transferred the hot, seared cauliflower out and seasoned it.

' _Okay, the marron tail'_

He seasoned the skewered tail too and then coated it lightly in olive oil. He cooked the tail onto the _hibachi_ and relished in the smokey seafood aroma. He made sure not to cook it through and it had to be still a bit raw on the inside. He pinched the pulled a little of it apart to check and was pleased that the meat was still velvety and plush, but cooked enough so he took it off the grill and seasoned it again before putting it aside.

' _Oh, my nightmare, the mushroom consommé…'_

This element gave him a lot of heartache in this match _and_ during practice. His stomach had long stopped lurching, so he merely felt bruised inside. His ears were just a dull ache now and every swallow was a little sting to his eustacian tube. His upper right arm was soaked with his sweat from constantly wiping down his forehead and his dark hair plastered themselves to his face with sweat. His headache continued to lightly pulse, but it wasn't as troublesome anymore, just tolerable and he was very thankful for that.

Yozora measured out some of the rich, brown liquid into a small copper pot and heated it on over a medium flame. He thought about using a cooking thermometer to double check the temperatures, but he opted out, instead, trusting his heart and the track he played in his head. Once he was sure of the timing, he added the blended sherry along with the finishing olive oil and he gently stirred them to disperse and set it aside too.

Finally, Yozora returned to his _marron tartare_ and turned it upside down on a clean cloth to absorb any excess moisture, then set it aside too.

" _Ten minutes to go!"._

Okay, he had to plate up now. No choice and no time left. The pressure was nothing like he'd ever felt before. He panted as he moved. He took out three pristine wide rimmed white plates and laid it out on the bench and knuckled down.

He spooned three small lumps the _marron tartare_ in a circular formation on reach serving plate. Then he placed seven cubed of the _pickled daikon dice_ in and around the portions of the _marron tartare._ He removed the _marinated smoked shiitake mushrooms_ from the vacuum-sealed bag and drained them really well. He sliced each mushroom thinly and laid two slices against the portions of _marron tartare_ and two slices on the cubes of _daikon_ for each plate. Then he removed the skewer from the grilled and rested _marron tail._ He trimmed the ends to neaten it up and cut each tail into three exact portions. He leaned each of the flesh against the _marron tartare_ too. It was all coming together now, the fruits of his efforts.

A medley ring started to form on each plate.

Yozora placed three florets of the _smoked_ _confit_ _cauliflower_ in between each portion of the _marron_. Now he was getting the bit of height and irregularity to the ring on his dish to give it variety. Then he placed a cluster of the four _madeira pickled enoki mushrooms_ in between each _marron,_ filling out the spaces with more visual textures. Now it was just the garnish.

" _Five minutes!"._

Yozora bit back a groan from the emcee's shrill voice. He pulled the last of his efforts and with his tweezers in trembling fingers, decorated the dish with _painstaking_ concentration for all three of his dishes with exactly four barilla leaves, three ice plant leaves, seven small sprigs of sea spray, four slices of button mushroom. He threw the tweezer onto the kitchen bench and then in the last two minutes, he transferred the warmed _mushroom consommé_ to the serving jug.

" _Time's up! First to finish is Hayama Akira!"._

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' _Done'._

Akira breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away. He turned to his opponent and as expected, he looked like he was run over by a truck, but was still alive and kicking. He'd spied on Mitsunaga every now and then as he cooked to see how he got on. He had to admit, it was pretty darn scary when that scream hit him with full force. Akira had almost dropped the pot on his foot! When he had seen that Mitsunaga was having some sort of attack, he rushed to the closest end of the kitchen station and leaned over to see what was happening and if there was anything he could do to stop it. The guy was thrashing around on his knees and the Bengali chef had no idea what was happening or even what to do but he wanted to do something, just didn't know what. The events officials were paralysed themselves or rushing around like headless chickens as nowhere in the history of the _Autumn Elections_ had anything like this happened and it was like they didn't know what the protocol was. _Useless adults._ All Akira could do was shout and yell at him from his side to bring Mitsunaga out of his howling, crazy meltdown, and see if he was okay. Even though Mitsunaga was his opponent, he wasn't an _enemy…_ he wasn't _that_ heartless. Akira had been genuinely concerned. But all he got back from the gamer chef was a confused stare when he finally snapped out of it and looked up. His eyes had been filled with a confused, harrowing darkness as if he hadn't heard a single word he was saying, and was consumed by whatever the hell was going on.

That was when a coppery scent had assaulted his nose.

It was unmistakable.

It was blood.

Mitsunaga Yozora was _fucking_ _bleeding_ out of his ears.

He couldn't believe it.

When the Director called for the match to stop and the clock to freeze, Akira had thought it would be all over and that Mitsuanga would forfeit. But to his utter shock and surprise the complete opposite happened. The stupid guy denied the school doctor from coming onto the stage! Mitsunaga had challenged The Director to keep going, and even accepting the harsh conditions should he do so. The damn chef still wanted to fight him to the bitter end, clearly in pain and dizzy. He was nuts! Akira couldn't figure out what was going on inside his head, maybe all that crazy videogame stuff had disillusioned him with an RPG hero's complex or something. Akira didn't know whether to condemn him for his stupidity or admire him.

No guts, no glory he supposed so he respected his opponent's wishes. He had to admit, Mitsunaga had fared pretty well against him under the circumstance. He had some shaky and blanked out moments over there, but he always recovered quickly and just kept going. Akira was surprised he hadn't accidentally cut his own fingers off in the past two hours. So he gave Mitsunaga what he deserved, he's very best effort so that the match wasn't a farce at all. Akira gave him everything he had. Well… he'd see if Mitsunaga's foolish decision had been worth it or not.

" _Hayama Akira. Please present your dish!"._

Akira gave his dishes a once over, its fragrance washed over him like a powerful magician's cloak, and he brought it over to the panel. He placed them before Chef Doujima, Nakiri Leonora and Director Nakiri.

"Thank you, Hayama-kun. Please explain your dish", said Chef Doujima.

He put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest "It's _**Raviolo of Marron**_ ".

A single parcel of a huge fresh _raviolo_ laid in the centre of his dish. It dripped with a thin coating of his seafood sauce, running along the base of the dish. The sauce glittered with the stadium lights, enticing and lovely. The thick and heady fragrance of his spices and herbs melded with the rich seafood scent of the fresh seafood elements; the marron, shellfish and ocean trout, all packaged into his handmade _raviolo._

"It's _raviolo of marron_ served with a shellfish _bisque._ It sits on a bed of spinach finished with a lemon vinaigrette", said Akira.

"Wow, this looks like a really simple dish to plate up, so for the plating there _needs to_ a lot of with finesse and I think you've nailed that", said Chef Doujima.

"Presentation wise, the pasta for the _ravioli_ is so thin, I can see the marron filling through it which means you rolled your pasta really well. You can see the lip around the outside too, which is a great technical skill there. Isn't it?", added Nakiri Leonora.

"Alright, shall we?", said Chef Doujima.

The judges cutted into the big pasta parcel and they beamed when they witnessed the brightly coloured, chunky filling come out. They twirled a bit of spinach onto their forks and pierced some cut up pieces of the _marron_ filling and pasta. Then they swirled it in the sauce and the _glace_ before putting the morsel into their mouths. Their reactions were instantaneous and the judges collectively groaned.

"Hmmph! The _marron_ bisque is so rich, sweet and beautiful. It's just perfect. The chicken stock and veal stock you added to it give it this 'full-bodied' flavour and the deep richness", sighed Nakiri Leonora.

"I agree", said Chef Doujima. "That richness of the bisque was wonderful; it really kicks a punch with its intense and deep _marron_ flavours. It's that _intensity_ of that bisque, all that hard work you've put in there and every bit of marron shell getting in there for me is what makes the dish so memorable. You have been really generous with your filling too. There was a lot of marron meat in there, which I love. I can also taste the ocean trout mousse in the chunkiness of the filling".

"Yes, the chervil was so fragrant, it goes brilliantly well with the beautifully cooked marron. Also, the ocean trout mousse in the filling didn't interfere with the marron filling at all. I thought it was really clever that the ocean-trout mousse was really just the binder, not really being the filling so it has more a structural role".

"We must talk about the pasta itself. There is a sweet earthiness to it. What did you put in, Hayama-kun?".

"It's _saffron oil"._

"Saffron oil?" gasped Nakiri Leonora.

"Yes. That's the most important part of the pasta sheets", said Akira. "You get the golden colour and the saffron spice flavours infused throughout the pasta to enhance the flavour of marron".

"Heavens, you're right!", gasped Nakiri Leonora.

"I must praise the reduced bisque _glazed_ over the _ravioli_ too", jumped in Chef Doujima. "Most _ravioli_ or _raviolo_ sauces that have a liquid consistency like burnt butter and sage often ends up like a moat around the dish, which is unappetizing most of the time. But I like that drizzle you have on top, the reduction is really… _meaty…_ and _bisquey._ I say, that bisque sauce… that _glace…_ is the most expensive sauce in Japan this afternoon _"._

Akira smirked.

"The spinach was beautiful and in terms of getting the tiny claws out of the marron and using it for garnish was really amazing! Getting them all _whole_ and _intact_ too was impressive", said Nakiri Leonora.

"You've presented to us a very delectable and delicious dish, Hayama-kun. Well done", finished Chef Doujima.

Akira swelled with pride as he smirked at the judges. Suddenly The Director stood up and with one flex of his pectoral, his whole upper garb fell of his body in one fell swoop, baring his muscles for all to see. The famous stripping! The whole audience cheered and shouted. The Director sat back down and opened his eyes. He was sucked into their deep depths. He spoke.

"You've done something I've never seen before, from anyone or anywhere".

His voice was a like a low roll of thunder, impossible to ignore and every head in the room turned. His strong voice crashed like a wave through the arena until the spacious area was filled with only his voice.

"Not only were you focused on your dish, but you dropped everything and left your station to check up on Mitsunaga Yozora when he was incapacitated as well. I could see it in your eyes, you were willing to go over there and help him. This tells me a lot about you in terms of spirit and generosity and that you're secured, deep down, tucked away. To give someone else your help, even though it could risk a chance of you losing too… Why".

Akira gulped.

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" _Get lost you little sewer rat! If you're gonna beg for good, do it somewhere else!"_

" _Stinking brat, you were rifling through our garbage again weren't you?!"_

" _Go back to the slum where you belong, trash or I'll_ _ **chop your ears off!"**_

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Akira touched his left ear… just behind the cartilage where it joined with the skull… he felt the rippling _scar_ running along the whole length of the seam there.

"No reason".

The Director exhaled loudly and simply sat back without a word or any reaction to his answer.

" _Next it Mitsunaga Yozora! Please present your dish!"._

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Yozora swallowed.

As he'd quietly observed Hayama's dish, he was struck dead in the core by the fragrance of the seafood and the strong _bisque_ sauce and _glace_ of his dish. The marron meat filling in the _raviolo_ looked absolutely moist and soft.

He balanced all three plates on in his hands and forearms and steadily walked to over the judging panel. The judges had finished off their palate cleansers and they looked eager to see what he'd managed to plate up. He slowly and carefully placed his dishes in front of them. He felt the heavy gaze of The Director on him and every move he made.

"This dish is absolutely beautiful!" gasped Nakiri-san. "Everything looks so precise and so intricate. Art on a plate. You really know how to pull out all the details".

"Tell us about your dish, Mitsunaga-kun", encouraged Chef Doujima.

"It's called _**sherried marron.**_ It's got grilled _marron_ tail, it's got _marron tartare_ underneath. Uhh… The marron was grilled over hot coals and are semi-cooked. There's _smoked brown butter cauliflower_ , _pickled daikon_ , _marinated shiitake, pickled dulse_ , a few sea vegetables, _pickled mushrooms_ and I've finished it with a _sherried mushroom consommé broth_ ".

"Very well done, Mitsunaga-kun. I'm surprised that you've managed to bring this to us. You've had so many elements to plate up", said Nakiri-san.

"Would you like to pour for us?", asked Chef Doujima.

"…Yeah".

Yozora stepped up and took up the serving jug. He poured the warm, crystal-clear brown liquid into the very centre of his rings of elements until it filled up like an oasis. He placed the jug down and stepped back. The judges started inspecting, turning his dish around and picking at the elements. Their eyes were wide with wonder as they grazed over every single little thing he had there. Soon, they were spearing their forks into the ring and placed it in their mouths. Their was a quiet explosion in their eyes… the good sort… but a hundred other feelings flitted through them and they were too quick for Yozora to capture.

"The _consommé_ has a really strong and punchy flavour", started Chef Doujima. "It's complex and pure, it tastes really good and has a fantastic colour".

"The mushroom flavours really accentuate the dish. It gives a nice little smokiness and it has a lot of flavour", Nakiri-san nodded to Chef Doujima. "The _consommé_ is really nice and rich. You've really coloured your mushrooms and really pushed it. It's delicious".

"Marron is the star of the dish and I think the _marron tartare_ has this beautiful punchy flavour and the freshness of the citrus pulp from that yuzu juice and the grape fruit brought a great acidity to it. It also has a good texture to it which is good to feel and see", commented Chef Doujima.

"I thought the _tartare_ was really interesting. For me, that's the standout. It has a really… fine… texture. I love the tartare flavours, it's really good with that touch of yuzu and the acidity, lots of little brunoise inside, the cauliflower is great, the broth is really complex with the deep kind of fungusy flavour which I love", said Nakiri-san.

"I also think what brings it all together is the sherried mushroom _consommé,_ which is well seasoned, layered, it's got acidity, it's got plenty of _umami._ It's pretty darn good. This just eats well, doesn't it? A range of textures and flavours, it's a pleasure to eat _"._

Yozora breathed a sigh or relief but one look from Nakiri Leonora stopped him from breathing all together.

"Now I want to level with you Mitsunaga-kun".

She laced her fingers the same way Nakiri Alice did, and leaned forward. A sly smirk spread across her painted lips making Yozora's face heat up instantly.

"What intrigues me is that there are not just _ten elements_ in this dish but each element is a _sub-recipe._ The measurements were really important and _must_ be precise. Each part plays an integral role to how the dish eats. Its seasoning, its layers, the acidity, its _umami,_ and that oh-so important _balance_ ".

"Exactly". Chef Doujima crossed his arms "There are two things here, getting ready in time and other is how good and how _well-balanced_ and how well executed is the whole thing. You _have to_ nail the _consommé_ which was the part that you were heavily disadvantaged in. It's so important for the marron".

"You were very pedantic, and all your hard work was coming down to this, an exceptionally complicated dish squeezed into two hours. You needed to get this plating as beautiful as possible. For this dish to succeed, you _must_ pull it off with panache and finesse. It _should_ be beautiful. It _should_ be balanced, every mouthful eaten through the dish _should_ be a delight", said Nakiri-san.

"When I eat this dish, I feel the fearlessness in you", said Chef.

"The question is, my dear boy… _Have you done enough to achieve all of this for us to pass onto the final level?"._

Suddenly The Director stood up to. He'd been silent throughout the whole judging process. But then suddenly, the _haori_ fell from his form to pool around his waist. The stadium lights flooded the huge expanse of his thick skin and Yozora stared slack-jawed at his first ever _strip._

" _Ladies and gentlemen! This concludes the last semi-final. Before the judges cast their votes for the winner for the marron match, the committee has come to a decision about the tie between Yukihira Souma and Kurokiba Ryou!"._

What?

Yozora looked towards the stand where Polar Star, Yukihira, Hayato-kun and Tsurugi- _senpai_ stood. He'd forgotten about the tie between the red-head and the _berserker!_ The tension fell upon the arena as anxious mutters and mumblings rippled through the crowd.

" _The committee has decided to advance them both!_ _ **The finals will be a three-way battle!"**_

Yozora blanched. But nothing like this has ever happened in the history of the _Autumn Elections_ before. This was unprecedented.

" _Judges! Are you ready to declare the winner of this match and the third participant for the finals?"._

"Handeth me mine brush!".

Yozora bit his lip and pressed his fist to his chest. He closed his eyes and waited with his heart in his throat.

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Akira clenched his fingers and teeth together. He had to win, for _Jun's_ sake, so that he could continue to be with her.

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Hayato gripped the metal bar and hyperventilated. Yo-kun deserved to win more than _anyone._

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Souma folded his arms and breathed deeply, staring at both Mitsunaga and Hayama and pursed his lips.

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Erina placed her hand over her racing heart, her lips parted and breathless. For once in her life, she was scared for someone, other than herself…

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"… _and the winner is…_

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… _ **HAYAMA AKIRA!"**_

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If there was hope before, even just a tiny flicker against the wind, then it was gone right before his very eyes. He was like a child reaching out, finger extended. In that moment, Yozora felt the dying embers in his heart and the winds brought a cold howl. He gazed around the stadium. The faceless masses of blurry figures jumped up and down, cheering. Slowly the rumble of claps died out, but their hands continued to incessantly clap together… His hearing… it was going again. Was it though? Things became blurrier and he wondered if his eyes had suddenly become affected like a latent side-effect from the still confusing breakdown he had. Something ticklish rolled down his cheek and he reached out to swipe it away. He gasped at the warm moisture that stained his finger.

Tears?

He was crying?

He stared at the droplet, mesmerised as his body started to shake, his diaphragm started contracting and convulsing for something violent and emotionally turbulent about to drop.

" _YO-KUN!"._

Then something else collided into his side and he just took it, not seeing the point to put in effort anymore. He was exhausted and utterly spent _._ As the gamer-chef almost collapsed onto the floor, something held him up on the other side. He looked up and saw it was Yukihira holding onto his other arm, lifting way up and helped him to resettle onto his feet. He was sporting a wide grin on his face. Why was he smiling? Oh right, he made it into the finals.

"You were amazing, Yo-kun! You did a really good job out there!", laughed Hayato-kun who gave him a crushing hug.

"For sure, Mitsunaga, you pulled through to the very end. You've got guts!" laughed Yukihira.

He could hear them and feel all the hugs and pats on his shoulders, but it didn't really process. His mind was too full and at the same time too vacuous. Soon he was totally surrounded by his classmates, and past competitors. He was flooded by a blaze of faces and he couldn't keep up. He was breathing through his mouth and he quickly licked his drying and cracked lips.

He lost the match, so why were they so happy to see him? He looked around, looking for something else, specifically _someone_ else.

' _Where's Nakiri?'._

The desire so see those strong and steely amethyst eyes was overwhelming. He needed to see her. He needed to find her. He needed to hear her voice and smell her perfume. He couldn't stay here anymore, not on this stage. He wanted to feel the warmth of her smooth skin on his and most of all… he wanted to crush her to his body like a lifeline. When Yozora was about to part through the noisy and congratulatory crowd, a solid mass blocked his way.

"You did good kid, I'm really proud of you".

He looked up into the smiling and warm face of Tsurugi- _senpai._ He'd had some changes to his aesthetics. He looked more experienced and travel worn, as if he'd traipsed all over Japan. Tsurugi- _senpai_ chuckled at him. His deep chuckle lifted his spirits. His face softened even when it came to rest. His strong and comforting presence made Yozora want to buckle his knees, and release all the pent up frustrations from within his crying heart. But no, he needed to be elsewhere.

"Thanks Tsurugi- _senpai_. But I gotta find Nakiri—"

"Nakiri? Why?"

"I just do" he tried to push past, but a large hand rested heavily on his shoulders.

"Hold your horses, the doctor needs to take a look at you".

"Later. I need to see Nakiri—"

"Got no choice then…"

Yozora had no time to process those cryptic words because the last thing he remembered was Tsurugi- _senpai_ punching him in the stomach.

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"He's all yours now, Kishitani- _sensei"._

"Th-Thank… you?"

The school doctor stood there shocked and petrified, he laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, as if he had no idea how to react to the weird turn of events. Tsurugi- _senpai_ dusted his hands together and his chest rumbled in satisfaction as if job-well-done. Holy shit! He'd just punched Yo-kun in the guts! It was like slow motion and Yo-kun was instantly KO'ed. His over-zealous _senpai_ didn't need to go that far… stupid muscle-brain, always doing crazy shit like this. Yukihira-kun and Hayato rushed forward to grab him before he keeled over and knocked his head. They hefted him up on both sides, with each of his arms over their necks as they worked together to support Yo-kun's weight. His feet dragged on the floor, completely unconscious. He had a really silly expression on his face too, his eyes were rolled backwards and his mouth hung open. His hair was either sticking out everywhere, or plastered to his skin with sweat like second skin. His head lolled around like a lifeless and limp ragdoll that was tossed into the dumpster. The dried blood that streaked his ears and side of his neck looked pretty bad and he _definitely_ needed to be put into the infirmary for a full rest.

"You boys take him back to sick-bay for Kishitani- _sensei._ Since Yozora wants to see Nakiri, so badly, make sure she's there when he wakes up or something", grunted Tsurugi- _senpai._

"…Okay…".

* * *

 **Awwww… what comes up must come down. THE LAW OF AVERAGES I TELL YOU! Didn't I warn you?! Yozora is such a mess and lost the semi-finals and is out of the tournament. I got teary writing this chapter haha. Now we know what happened to him with his breakdown. Sonic attacks are a scary thing. Things were falling apart for Yozora and I have to give him some claps for persevering. The next question is** _ **who**_ **is responsible for that infrasound attack? No prizes for deductions because really… it's not that hard to guess… or is it?**

 **Now, since** _ **sanma**_ **was supposed to the final star ingredient for the three way battle finals in the canon, and instead I've used it for Souma's and Ryou's semi-final match, that means there's going to be a brand new theme/ingredient I will introduce for Souma's, Ryou's and Akira's final match… I'M SO EXCITED TO SHARE IT WITH YOU SOON! But first, we need to find out how Yozora is going to cope with his loss once he sees Erina.**

 **Also don't forget, check out my poll on my profile for 'The Guild' :D Head on over and choose your favourite OC characters and see what other readers had voted!**

 **Please let me know what you think and I will see you all next time!**

 **Signing-off**

 **TripWire-dono**


	21. End of the Road

**NOTE: Following in the foot-steps of JK Rowling, there will be accent writing :) Enjoy!**

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 _Chapter 21 - End of the Road_

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"I don't even know where to begin", bemoaned Souma.

This theme was _hard._ He knew pretty much nothing about it.

He stifled a yawn as he and Hayato briskly walked down the wide and open corridor in the North-West wing of _Tootsuki._ Trickles of students flowed past them, bathed in the mid-morning sun pouring through the hallway windows. The thick scent of last night's rain was still heady and moist. It felt a little sticky around the nape of his neck and he pulled at his shirt collar. Last night had been frustrating. There'd been a freak thunderstorm over the _Kantou_ region and it took out the electricity from the Polar Star Dormitory. He thought the rainy season was supposed to be over, but apparently not. He guessed it couldn't be helped; he blamed the whole thing on climate change.

At the first sign of the low crackling thunder, rolling across the skies to heavy pattering of fat raindrops, the manor had been plunged into darkness. The shrill screams of the female residents echoing throughout the blackout had been comical at first, but then it had gotten a bit annoying when Daigo and Shouji joined in the scream-fest. Fumio-san and Isshiki- _senpai_ had gone into survival mode and busted out the battery-operated lamps and torches. Souma had been through black-outs before, they were nothing to get scared of. He'd felt his way around his closet to get his own flashlight, only to find it missing. He'd vaguely recalled lending it to someone, but just couldn't remember who. Just when he had been ready to knuckle down to do some good solid research for his Three-way-battle finals match's theme, this kerfuffle had to happen. Then with a spark of relief he'd remembered there was some life left in his laptop battery. From the light of the screen, it shouldn't have been a problem to still do his research!

…Then he'd realised… power outage meant no power to the router… so no Wifi or Internet… no research…

Souma pouted and rubbed his chin at the disappointing memory.

"Which is why I'm taking you to some people who could help you", chuckled Ginsekai.

The bouncy boy walked abreast without looking up from his smartphone once. A quick peep was all Souma needed to see that Ginsekai was updating _The Guild's_ blog page. He mentioned some things about The Autumn Elections, but it mostly talked about video-games and music and there were some pictures of deep, red _momiji_. He expertly navigated his way, shifting his body fluidly between other students like he was a fish in a river, not even lightly brushing against people. Souma had to admire the text-savviness.

" _NPCs_ too?".

"Nope. They're classmates of Kasai- _senpai's_ and Tsurugi- _senpai's_ ".

Some third-years, huh? Ginsekai left it there with a tiny smirk on his lips. His thumbs zipped along the touch-screen keyboard with not a single typo. His eyes also roved across the screen as words filled it like water pouring into a glass. It seemed like the blonde gamer chef was just too absorbed with his blog post to elaborate. Souma lifted a crimson brow. But odd… shouldn't Ginsekai still be freaking out about Mitsunaga or something? The guy didn't turn up for school today.

"So huh… how's Mitsunaga? Is he doing okay?".

Ginsekai's lips pinched together and he finally looked up. He finally put his phone away and sighed lightly.

"Yeah. The school doctor said he's got perforations in both eardrums that'll heal sooner or later. There might be some scarring which will make the eardrums stiffer to vibrate and conduct sound. But it shouldn't really affect his hearing that much… I mean, for conversations and stuff. I dunno know how much it'll affect his ability to _listen_ to music though. He's due for a hearing assessment later on, so we'll see. For now, Yo-kun is banned from using earphones, headphones or earpieces while his eardrums and ear canal heals up. Don't want them getting infected in the process and shit".

Souma exhaled loudly, feeling relieved. Polar Star Dorm had been waiting to hear some news about him straight after the match, but Yuujou- _senpai_ promptly kicked them out of sick-bay, so they'd no choice but to wait for the next day to get some news. So, it wasn't that bad and he was glad. He still had his hearing. Maybe it wouldn't be in perfect condition but it could've been worst, when he thought about it. He still felt awful for the guy and he shivered from the thought of himself going through that. In fact, Souma still felt a bit queasy from remembering the blood that came out of Mitsunaga's ears. It looked like one of those scenes out of that intense medical drama Isshiki- _senpai_ tended to watch after dinner.

There was another red-flag to mull over…

Yesterday, Yuujou- _senpai_ had made Souma swear on everything he held dear not to tell any other living person on the planet about the _infrasonic_ attack. In fact, Yuujou- _senpai_ said if anyone asked about what happened that he should just feign ignorance, tell them that he had 'no idea' what happened. It sounded really odd to him as to why Yuujou- _senpai_ would want to keep this a total secret and unfortunately, Yuujou- _senpai_ was really intimidating, with all that muscle, and it left Souma with no room for questions, and no choice but to cross his heart on this one. To top if off, Polar Star Dorm were worried sick and were hounding Ginsekai for answers. The blonde gamer-chef was really good at holding his ground and faking that he didn't know either. It didn't settle well with the red-headed chef, but he guessed Mitsunaga would appreciate it if all this chaos was kept private all the same.

"He's just at home, supposed to be lazing about on bed-rest. But between you and me, I reckon he's just taking out his anger on _Grand Turismo_ all day long".

"Anger?".

Souma came out of his thoughts as Ginsekai continued, unaware at the weighing in Souma's heart.

"Yep, being kicked out of the competition kinda sucks, you know".

Damn. He'd never seen Mitsunaga 'angry' before. Maybe peeved and annoyed, but not actually 'angry'. It was hard to perceive it since he had this disconcerting poker-face most of the time or was asleep. He guessed it took a lot to make him reach that stage. He was curious to see what Mitsunaga's anger was like. Souma had a strong feeling that the President of _The Guild_ was angry at himself. That guy always took everything upon his shoulders with that entire _Guild_ stuff and had this mad obsession with proving himself to the school. Honestly, Souma couldn't give a damn what _Tootsuki_ thought of him and he believed Mitsunaga shouldn't either. It was just a waste of time and energy. On the other hand, it was good to know that, that guy was hella competitive, but still a bit worrisome that he was angry about something that was beyond his control, especially when it was nowhere near his fault. The red-head felt glad that Mitsunaga took a day off from school. He really needed it, after all.

"As long as Mitsunaga doesn't barricade himself and become a _hikikomori_ because of that, everything should be a-okay", replied Souma.

"Yep".

Souma nodded. As another minute passed by, he realised that they've stepped into one of the RS buildings. He looked around. He could hear chattering and knives hitting the chopping boards. As they continued their journey, Souma peeked through the indoor windows to sate his curiosity. Some of the clubrooms were occupied with their members and others were empty. It was study period for the first-year classes right now, so all the first year students were free to do their own self-study or self-cooking practice. It made sense that they'd hit-up their own clubrooms for that. As the pair passed by, different and wonderful scents of exotic cuisines welcomed him and tantalised his nostrils. His heart picked up the pace. Where was Ginsekai taking him? Finally, they stopped in front of a set of double doors with no RS label. How weird, every other clubroom had their club names posted on it except this one. On closer inspection, he noticed that it had been peeled off and was never replaced; the tell-tale left over of paper from the slot for the name was the only remaining thing. Souma turned to his blonde friend.

"A Research Society?".

"Exactly. Now, if anyone starts calling the President _'Captain America'_ , don't follow suit. He really hates that nickname" said Ginsekai.

"Why?".

"Because he's _Australian"._

"What?".

Ginsekai gripped the latch and slid the door open.

"Welcome to the _**Australian Cuisine Research Society**_ _!"._

As soon as he announced their arrival, Souma's curiosity jarred and then piqued at the sight before him. The rattling of the sliding door was deafening, making him jolt on the spot. There were four students all sitting atop the kitchen benches and they suddenly stopped chatting to each other and whipped their heads towards them at the sound of the door banging against the end of the upper and bottom railing, like a family of curious meerkats.

The first student who hopped off was a tall Caucasian fellow. He landed with a limber thud on the tiles. He was filled out, fit and trim as he sauntered over. His arms moved with a slight swagger as his body advanced. He was broad-shouldered and tanned, the paragon of a surfer at the beach. Souma took in the appearance of the young man, he took in his lean muscles from beneath the school shirt and clean-shaven square jaw. The elder student smiled with ease as he stopped at an arm's length away. He was taller up close, reaching about Yuujou- _senpai's_ height and Yuujou- _senpai_ was already freakishly tall. His wavy, streaked, brunette hair sat loosely on his crown, like swirls of caramel ripples. His fringe was swept up and back, tumbling in waves. Thick, dark brows adorned his chiselled face and beneath them were large, bright and friendly green eyes that sparked with playfulness and fun.

"Hayato! Haven't seen ya in forevah. How've ya been, mate?".

Souma was instantly drawn to his voice. It was as deep as any man but still had a boyish charisma to it. The accent caught Souma off guard the most. His command of Japanese sentence structuring was good, _perfect_ in fact, but the sounds were kind of weird, but not altogether unpleasant. Actually… it had its own brand of charm, laid-back and casual. He clapped his large palm on Ginsekai's skinny shoulders who dipped under the weight.

"I know. Busy with the Autumn Elections and stuff".

The blonde gamer-chef rubbed the back of his neck and grinned shyly at the tall, nodding Caucasian student. Souma stared at him in awe. He was one big, handsome guy… _kind of like Captain America…_ but mostly _not_ like Captain America… Actually… he looked _nothing_ like Captain American! Why would they call him 'Captain America' when he didn't even look like him?!

He greeted Ginsekai as if they were good friends whom he'd known for years.

" _Yallah_ , Hayato. Whozzat cutie with ya?".

Suddenly a heavy and piercing voice cut through the air and Souma snapped out of his reverie and threw his head in the direction from where it came. Perched on the kitchen bench was a beautiful, dark, olive-skinned girl with thick, wavy, luscious chocolate brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders and generous bust. Her long model-like legs were crossed over, revealing her smooth and shimmering caramel-coloured skin that could rival Nikumi's. Her cheeky smile was a hot beam of sunshine and her full lips were puckered and dusky pink. She had high and prominent cheekbones on her indulgent face. Her dark smoked-topaz hued eyes traveled from Ginsekai to him and they glistened every time they moved. They were surrounded by serious lashes and her eyelids were tastefully lined with inky blackness, and smokey-bronze shading at the edges surrounded her feline eyes, accentuating the deep and piercing, exotic gaze. Souma had never seen make-up as seductive as that before. They were a far-cry from the usual suspects in Yoshino's and Sakaki's girl-magazines. They drew Souma into a daze, not letting him go. She leaned back on her hands and her twin, silver bangles clinked on the smooth surface and she quirked her expertly defined brow at him. She wore her school uniform casually, the top button was undone, her tie was loosened, and she her blazer was tied around her waist. Her manicure was outrageous! She rapped her long, polished nude-coloured fingernails on the phone in her grip.

"Oh! Uh, hey everyone. I want you to meet Yukihira Souma, a friend of mine. I'm just wondering if you guys could give him some pointers for the upcoming Autumn Election Finals match?".

"You made it to finals? Goodonya! No worries. Come on in, Yukihira", cheered the Caucasian student.

He turned to Souma, reached for his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm Andrew King, President of the Aussie Cuisine RS".

"I'm Layla Hajjar! But call me Layla", yelled the exotic beauty from across the room.

"My name's Brianna Fletcher, it's nice to meet you".

Souma sudden lurched into the room by big _thwack_ from the back by the President's palm. Then the door was closed behind him with a sharp snap. He nodded with a wide and nervous grin, trying to hide the stinging pain between his shoulder blades but then the President's large and unassuming hand landed on his shoulders with a heavy, but friendly series of pat, making his shoulder yank downwards each time. Souma quickly felt at ease from the relaxing smiles from the people in the room. The girl introduced as 'Brianna Fletcher' slid off the bench and approached Souma and stuck out her hand. Souma glanced down and then took it with a small shake before releasing her, giving her a lop-sided smile of his own. She was a vision herself too. She had glossy orange-red hair that fell in loose ringlets down her shoulders. It was as if they were born from flames. She had soft, ivory skin and high cheekbones too, splashed with freckles. With her elven features and voluminous. fiery-red and bouncy hair, she was cute. She had green eyes just like King-san, but they were lighter and had flecks of gold in them, and her eyebrows were finer. She had a soft and mature voice, which was completely different to Layla-san's. Also, she was rather petite and dainty. Delicate, maybe.

"Yuxuan Wang. Damn it! I mean, _Wang_ Yuxuan. Christ, I still can't get used to saying my name backwards".

Finally, the last occupant of the clubroom lept off the bench and tsked himself. He was an average sized boy who had midnight black hair, roughly combed and parted at the side, and equally dark eyes that half-glared at him with wariness and caution, as if he was sizing him up with x-ray visions for hidden weapons from behind his wide-framed glasses. He was a smidge taller than Fletcher-san. He wore only his school shirt and trousers, just like King-san except there was a wallet-chain clipped to his belt loop, and the other end was probably his wallet in his pocket. He also had a checkerboard-printed sweat band around his left wrist. He didn't wear the standard school shoes, instead he donned a pair of sneakers that looked better suited for basketball than _Tootsuki_. He folded his arms and stepped up to Souma before giving him another once over and nodding at him. Souma nodded back and something glinted from the side. He flitted his aureate eyes over and saw that Wang-san had a couple of piercings on both of his ears. Wicked. Souma looked back at him to find that he was already smirking.

' _They all have cool-sounding accents… weird, but cool'._

"So anyway, whaddaya wanna know?", asked Wang-san.

"Umm… My theme for the upcoming match is _**Australian Desserts**_ ", replied Souma. "The thing is, I don't know anything about Australian food, let alone their desserts. I was hoping you could give me a run-down on what Australian cuisine is".

"Did yah try Wikipaedia?", snorted Layla-san.

She was now on her phone, clearly no longer interested in what was playing out in front of her, typing rapidly with her manicure click-clacking on the screen. Ginsekai couldn't compete with her speed. She was now chewing gum as she smiled at something amusing on her phone while she uncrossed her legs and crossed the other over. Souma gaped at her nonchalance. King-san rolled his eyes at her and turned to Souma.

"Yeah, we could do that. All of us here came from 'straya,'n' as you can see, from different backgrounds too. Our country's really multi-cultural so our food is diverse 'n' influenced by the different cultures 'n' ethnicities that came 'n' made 'straya their home".

Souma nodded, interested to know more.

"Now explaining Aussie cuisine… _Fark_ me, that's a tough one. Can't remember the last time anyone's asked me that. A lot of other world cuisines are easily distinguished by their ingredients, but 'straya? Yeah, nah… our flavours aren't quite as obvious".

King-san grabbed a chair and dumped himself on it. He spread is knees apart, similar to how Yuujou- _senpai_ sat. He exhaled like a lazy bull.

"If you wanna get down to the nut of it, then let's look at the Aussie climate first. We're like _farkin'_ _eighty percent_ outback," laughed King-san. "It's an inhospitable hellscape out in the Never-Never. Unforgiving stretch of red dessert full of vicious or venomous buggers 'n' extreme weather conditions. So that means, we got tough 'n' hardy plants with native fruits, herbs 'n' nuts that are _strong_ -flavoured 'n' _strong_ tasting, you wouldn't find 'em anywhere else in the word… since… _our home is girt by sea_ ".

"Oh my gooohhhd, Andrew. You're so lame~".

Layla-san's voice pitched much deeper than what Souma was prepared for. Fletcher-san and Wang-san exchanged amused glances, and King-san threw his hand up for a hi-five, but everyone in his club left him hanging.

"Anyway, we call it _bush tuck-ah_ ", he shrugged his shoulder, not bothered at all.

' _Bush… tucker? What's a 'tucker'? Is that just bush… food?'._

"Uh… how about any useful information that I can use for desserts?", Souma asked hesitantly. He didn't exactly have all the time in the world…

"Hmm… traditional Australian desserts use ingredients that hark back to its British heritage, like cream, sponge, chocolate and jam. We traditionally don't make desserts that are complex, unique and beautiful as the French, but they're still really delicious all the same", said Fletcher-san.

"Yeah, but going old-school Aussie for his recipe isn't gonna win Yukihira the final match, Bree", countered Wang-san.

"Hey Yukihira, you should make _Fairy-Bread_ or _Chocolate Crackle_ ", chuckled Layla-san.

"Huh?", Souma blinked.

"NO! Don't make that, you'll be outta the competition before you've even started!", Fletcher-san hastily cut in.

Damn… he really liked the sound of ' _fairy-bread'_ too…

"Ignoring what Layla said, Bree 'n' Andrew are right. Nowadays, you gotta take it up a notch by adding indigenous flare to the dessert to re-capture the _true_ sense of Australia in your dessert. Some examples of native Australian fruits are the _quandong,_ which is like a native peach, _riberries,_ which are like native raspberries, _Illawara plums_ 'n' _finger-lime._ Maybe they could be useful for experimenting with if you wanna go for _native flavours_ for your dessert", added Wang-san.

Souma nodded. He'd happily consider it.

"Despite being pretty much bone-dry desert, we're lucky to have a handful of temperate places that suit European ingredients too, and up in Queensland and the Northern Territory, we're tropical 'n' grow a ridiculous amount of tropical fruits that feed the whole country's fruit needs. Can't see a _farkin'_ summer Cole's ad on TV without Curtis Stone bangin' on about fresh Aussie mangos being in season every _farkin'_ ten seconds. Yeah, nah, we got mangos, bananas, pineapples, peaches, lychees, papayas, loads of stone fruits, loads of citrus fruits… Tassie cherries. We've even got jackfruit 'n' _durian_ up in Darwin for some odd reason".

"Don't forget the avocados. _I_ can't see my sister's _instagram_ without some version of 'smashed avo on toast' in every hipster café she goes to with her uni-friends", muttered Wang-san.

"Same here with my cousins. In Melbourne and Sydney, we're all about that avocado-life now".

"Your sister goes like… _every week!_ That shit's expensive, cuz", Layla-san frowned and 'tapped' the air with her finger.

"Yeah, nah, twice a week actually… 'n' she wonders why she can't afford housing in Sydney", Wang-san shook his head.

"Right. Native fruits and tropical fruits. Got it", Souma nodded.

"Desserts huh… We love our wines", continued King-san with a huge smile. "The quality of Aussie wine is unparalleled. We mainly produce the ' _Cab-Sav', Shiraz, The 'Chardy', Merlot, Semillion, Pinot noir, Riesling_ 'n' the _Sav-Blanc_ ".

While Wang-san stepped out of his disapproving reminiscing of his sister, and Layla-san picked imaginary dirt from under her fingernails, Souma could feel how proud King-san sounded about wine and he wasn't certain if he'd heard many of those different varieties before. King-san folded his arms behind his head and started popping the joints in his back, releasing satisfied groans at the same time as if he had declared an absolute and undisputed fact. Everyone in this club was in a really chill mood today, which was nice… maybe a bit… _too chilled._ Souma thought about the dessert classes with Chef Chapelle. They'd started learning about adding different types of alcohol and liqueurs to desserts like _brandy_ and _cognac._ Wine was one of the things that was in his class notes too.

"We're world-leading in producing, supplying 'n' exports in wine. Our domestic 'n' international wine industry brings back a _huge_ chunk to our economy, that's how good it is. When looking at _quality_ 'n' not _history_ … France, Italy 'n' Spain have nothing on our wines. You look up the winners of different wine competitions around the word, you'll find the Aussie names up there with gold medals. So, if you wanna go for, like, a refined, mature, sophisticated or gourmet touch that reflects the 'strayan _terroir_ in your dessert, then you can't go wrong with a good quality Aussie bottle to be that much more classy _'strayan"._

Souma made a mental note to investigate the different types of major Australian wines he could look at… and perhaps even which wines paired with what flavours and fruits. Now that he remembered… _Oyaji_ once had a bottle of wine in the cabinet that was from Australia too… he'd brought it out to celebrate his and _Kaa-chan's_ wedding anniversary a couple of years back.

"So that's our produce in a nutshell… at least the ones that're relevant to desserts", said Wang-san. "Aussie food is not just about how good it looks, but how we find it 'n' where it comes from too. Hence the big emphasis on using local produce 'n' tasting those _regional_ flavours like the wine regions, cheese-making regions, the bush-tuck-ah, our expanding _truffle farming_ , craft breweries, tropical fruits 'n' stuff. Now, when looking at the _cooking…_ we adapt to our _Asian_ influences better than most countries. We draw from our _Mediterranean_ influences quite easily and we blend in _European_ techniques really well. We're now starting to go back to our roots 'n' exploring a lot of _Indigenous_ or native ingredients like the _finger lime_ 'n' _quangdong_ I mentioned earlier, on our menus to pay homage to the original custodians of the land, that's unique to our landscape 'n' traditions to complete the missing puzzle in _true_ Australian cuisine".

King-san and Fletcher-san nodded along.

"Another thing, when it comes to _fusion_ cuisines is that Australians pull it off really well. It can be _rustic_ or _refined,_ but as long as it reflects different facets of our country's identity and tells a nuanced story of the _land_ , as well as the _people_ , then for sure, you could convey that very unique _Australian_ flavour", added Fletcher-san.

' _It all comes back to_ _ **telling a story**_ _huh…'_

Souma furrowed his brow. This was super-interesting. Australian cuisine wasn't a simple thing to grasp. He understood that it drew a lot from multi-cultural backgrounds for inspiration, and they had their own native and Indigenous ingredients too. He had it in his head that it was going to be the same as modern American food, or the same as British food. Once a upon a time, that might've been the case, but it seemed like it was nowhere near now. He was surprised to hear about the native fruits and stuff, since it was mostly a desert country and therefore, he thought it was too hot and dry for any fruit-plants to survive. Then there was the huge tropical fruit farm industry, and finally Australia being a serious 'wine country'. Hearing that Australian Cuisine was shaped by Asians, Mediterranean's and Europeans was probably the icing on the cake and it made it, _that_ much more exciting to explore. The way the Australian Cuisine RS talked about the ingredients and the food felt like they have a really strong connection with the land. He started to understand that Australia had a rich, never-ending tapestry of different stories of people from all over the globe.

"Australian Cuisine… is a work in progress. We're a young country in the grand scheme of things", said Fletcher-san. "Unlike other countries, we _didn't_ have thousands of years to build and shape our own food identity and culture that could be easily recognised or have a national dish in this day and age. You know, it takes many years for all these exchanges in ideas, influence and learning to utilise different ingredients to take place, but now get this… 'food fads' are traveling at break-neck speed all over the country thanks to all this social media".

"Yeah…?", asked Souma.

"That's why Australian food is dying!" yelled Layla-san.

Souma and Ginsekai spooked and Wang-san, Fletcher-san and King-san merely looked over. The girl hopped off the bench and went over to them, finally her phone was out of her hands and in her skirt pocket. She twirled her fingers in her thick locks. She started talking at rapid speed, coupled with her strong accent, Souma had a tough time catching up.

"Thanks to social media and shit, modern Aussie food is becoming just _instagram_ food we eat with our eyes, with no backbone of culture!".

She cried out as if it was the greatest injustice in the world. Okay? So, she was really upset by this? Souma didn't really see anything wrong with food-trends or something to get emotional about. They were exciting and fun and was great for engaging people and the community with food and fun food experiences. The Polar Star Dorm girls followed food trends religiously and their _Instagram_ pages were always filled to the brim with beautiful, creative and even weird dishes as lots of chef's out there were breaking boundaries.

"Nowadays, everything looks the fuckin' same because everyone is copying each other to be _insta-famous_ or _Instagram-worthy,_ and now different influences get mish-mashed together just to create something that looks good, but have way too much hype and is over-priced… with _Instagram_ filtres… _and_ they don't make any fuckin' _sense_ on the plate because it's presentation is all or the 'likes' and 'hearts', and when you eat it, it doesn't give you a real _Australian flavour experience_ anymore. Then chef's defend it by calling it ' _contemporary'_ because they're scared of getting their feelings hurt by food critics who actually know their shit!".

She did this thing where she flexed her manicured fingers in the air, as she said _'contemporary'_ that gave Souma more evidence that she really hated food-fads. He never thought of food trends to be a threat to cuisines. Hmm… he'd have to think about that. But what he got from Layla-san, as emboldened as she was, was that Australia was suffering from the idea of 'sameness' as the food culture bowed to the power of social media? Was he on the right track?

"Wow. Looks like someone really needs a _Macca's run_ ", chuckled Fletcher-san.

"Oh my gohhd, _Yes cuz!_ I'm starving. Captain China, let's go this arvo".

She suddenly looped her arm around Wang-san's arm and rested her chin on his shoulder like a dramatic, clingy, over the top actress and sighed loudly. The boy had a small, but exasperated smile on his face as he let her drape herself all over his arm and press her bust into his back. He tilted his head towards her awfully close and gave her the side-eye.

" _Captain China?_ Is it because of your Chinese background? _"_ , asked Souma, really curious about their dynamics. Most importantly… wasn't that offensive?

"Kinda. Mostly it's because my super power is _lending them all, money"._ Wang-san raised his voice, directly at King-san as if to make a point. The latter grinned cheekily back.

"Right!", clapped King-san. "While Layla 'n' Yuxuan shout us _Maccas_ , you two can stay 'n' bludge with me 'n' Bree. The only way you could _truly_ understand Aussie Cuisine is by taking a bite yourself. I'll whip up my _**Pavlova lemon posset, balsamic strawberries 'n' basil sherbet**_ for you to try".

"A what?"

"Pavlova", said Fletcher-san, who was now taming her fiery-red hair into a bun. "It's a meringue-based dessert. It's debatable about whether its Aussie or not. The New Zealanders claim it's theirs too… which I think it's actually true".

"Don't listen to the Kiwis. It's _farkin'_ 'strayan!", yelled King-san. "But they can _keep_ Russel Crowe!" he threw back as an afterthought.

"While Andrew tries-and-fails to keep a tight lid on his 'inner _bogan'_ , while making his winning _pavlova,_ I'll make you guys my _**Panacotta with Rosella consommé with peppermint gum oil**_ ".

"And when we come back with _Maccas_ , I'll make you a _**lychee sorbet with caramalised pineapple and coconut shortbread**_ to try", said Wang-san who was being vehemently dragged to the door.

"And I'll make you my _**Modern Australian baklava**! _I've based it on my _Teta's_ recipe. Let's go, Yuxuan. _Yallah! Yallah!"._

With that, the two blew away like a huge gust of wind, leaving the clubroom drenched in silence. The remaining members of the wacky club got busy and productive, a far cry from how laid-back they were before as they assembled their ingredients and utensils at two different kitchen stations.

"So, Yukihira-kun", Ginsekai stepped up beside him and grinned. "Keeping up with everything so far?".

"I think so. I'm starting to form my vision for the dish, but like King-san said, I need to actually taste it to understand. But one question though…"

"Yeah?".

"What's a _Maccas?"._

 _._

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* * *

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 _._

Yozora groaned.

He hated this so much.

The President of _The Guild_ rolled onto his stomach and smothered his face into the couch cushions. His feet didn't fit into the length of the plush leather couch and instead it hung over the arm-rest, adding more to his discomfort. He dropped the _X-box_ controller onto the fluffy grey rug beneath the glass coffee-table with a muffled _'clack'_. He listened to the _'game-over'_ tune as it jeered and mocked him with its sombre cellos and piano. He might as well listen to _**Track 82**_ _._ He'd had enough but he didn't have the energy to turn off the console and instead resigned himself to the music telling him about his failures in his video-game life… as well as real life. He finally rolled onto his side to avoid suffocating.

' _I'm so done with Tootsuki'._

The waning brightness told him that it was approaching late afternoon, meaning school was over. Hayato-kun said he was continuing to hang out with Yukihira today. Yozora smirked. Those two were fast becoming best-friends-forever. He wasn't going to lie, it hurt a little. But he knew that this was good for Hayato-kun so he'd just grit his teeth and tried not to be a baby about it. He needed to make other friends too, and build connections with other people. It may also be that Kasai- _senpai_ had ordered Hayato-kun to give him some space to recover because of the blonde's tendency to fuss needlessly when it came to Yozora. It seemed like the third-year student wasn't really letting go of the mantle of _Guild Master_ that easily too. Either way, Hayato-kun wouldn't be back for some time. Yozora pushed himself up into his usual sitting position and fell back against the cushions. His head lolled back and rested against the couch backrest, his jaw falling limply open. The ceiling filled his vision as the _'game-over'_ tune looped back to the beginning. His ears stopped hurting thanks to the meds. Soon, it would be itching like crazy. From what he could discern, listening to music was still relatively the same as usual, except maybe certain pitches and certain frequencies escaped him, not like he was motivated to properly test it out by paying attention, so he was too tired to be a hundred percent sure. Maybe now he wouldn't be so annoyed when things were played in the wrong pitch or the wrong key.

' _Maybe I won't randomly harmonise with the washing machine, microwave or fridge anymore"._

He remembered having a fitful sleep in sickbay yesterday after Tsurugi- _senpai_ punched him in the stomach… that _dick._ Perhaps he should be grateful because looking back, he _definitely_ wasn't in his right mind when he was obsessively asking for Nakiri and was clamouring to go find her straight after the most stressful match of his life… with bleeding ears.

He could tell Nakiri had visited him in sick-bay during the day while he'd been passed out, but she hadn't been there when he woke up. He knew only because her sweet perfume lingered in the air and it was the best thing to wake up to. Knowing that she'd come to see him, even if it'd been for a few minutes was a blessing enough. He was fully aware that Nakiri settled for nothing less than the best and he certainly did his best, but he truly wondered if his 'best' was enough.

' _I lost. What does she think of me now?'._

Yozora rubbed his eyes and got his arse up. He stumbled towards the console and switched it off. While bending over, he got a good whiff of himself as his body-odour wafted up, and shuddered. Yeah… he needed a long shower. The apartment was so quiet. Not even the heavier traffic noises made it up here anymore. Or maybe his hearing really was going south… His heart dropped at the thought. He sniffed and lazily trudged to the kitchen making a beeline for the fridge. They needed to get groceries at the end of this week, but right now, he only had eyes for that golden can of _Kirin Fire Coffee_ next to the left-over _tamagoyaki_. His brain was running on five-percent battery so getting something loaded with caffeine would get him back up to peak efficiency. He snapped the can open and chugged its contents in between hurried gulps. The bittersweetness stung on its way down, making his oesophagus constrict and his tongue tense up. He released his lips from the cool can and sighed loudly. He could already feel the caffeinated magic working and his brain kicked out of being almost flar. Yozora slid his hand under his plain white shirt and scratched at his stomach. His eyes blinked several times as the exhaustion abated and he started _really_ thinking about yesterday.

He went back to the living room and pulled his laptop from under the couch and switched it on.

' _First thing's first. I need to find out who blasted me with infrasound. No prizes for who'._

Easy guess, it was Eizan-senpai or Mimasaka, or both. They were cunning pieces of shit. Mimasaka might have the know-how for that, considering he was adept with technology when it came to stalking, pilfering information and putting surveillance on people. Eizan- _senpai_ would have the resourcefulness and connections to pull a stunt like that too. They both had the motivation and would stoop that low for revenge for what he did.

He took another swig of the canned coffee and sloshed the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing. Hayato-kun had given him the low-down on what had happened yesterday before he left for school this morning, _after_ he was sure he wasn't bat-shit crazy anymore, of course. Before he could withdraw into a spiralling hole of frustrated confusion and the obsessive need to figure out which one of them did this to him, the doorbell rang. His head bobbed up. Who could it be? He narrowed his eyes and cautiously made his way to the door, hunched and coiled. He checked the intercom and his breath caught in his throat.

Yozora hastily unlocked the door, elated and excited to see Nakiri on the other side.

She looked just as surprised as he was! Yozora gaped at her, not believing that she was really here. She must've come straight from school. She stood just beyond the threshold, blushing and eyes gazing away from his face, gripping her book-bag in front of her.

"…Hey", greeted Yozora.

"Hello".

Yozora hastily shuffled to the side, holding the door open like an idiot-doorman for Nakiri. She strode in quickly and removed her shoes at the small _genkan_ as if she was on an important mission, always jittery, moving and on the go. Yozora floated around her in the background not knowing what to do as she quickly helped herself to putting her stuff in the living room. She made a quick inspection around her and Yozora wished he had taken that shower earlier when he had the chance. He reeked of his own sweat! The humidity from last night's rain didn't help! He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. He wasn't expecting her in the least and was curious as to why she was paying him a visit in _his_ apartment. His stomach fluttered and he quickly checked the intercom again for any of Nakiri's body guards shadowing outside his front door, and was relieved to find none.

"How are you feeling?", she asked.

"Umm…".

"You haven't been putting on headphones or anything in your ears, have you?".

"Umm…".

"Are you following all of Kishitani- _sensei's_ recommendations?".

"Umm…".

"Stop doing that. You sound like an idiot".

Yozora snapped his mouth shut. Nakiri was instantly in front of him and looking exceptionally annoyed. Her perfect pink lips were pursed in displeasure and her delicate brows were knitted together as she half-heartedly glared at him. Nakiri's short fuse was quickly running out and Yozora did the smart thing in following everything she told him to do to the letter. She crossed her arms and leaned to the side, her face crept nearer to him and he realised that she was checking out his ears. Her sharp violet orbs grazed over him very closely, making his chest thrum. His eyes tracked her every movements greedily and he lightly sniffed her perfume without her knowing when she got close enough. Damn, she always smelt great.

"Honestly, it's always one thing or the other with you", she tsked at him.

Yozora stared back owlishly as Nakiri turned away and he missed their close proximity already. She went over to her bag, bent over, and pulled something out of it. She returned and presented it to him with one hand while the other rested on her hip with a great big sigh. She looked at him pointedly, waiting for him to accept her offering as if she had better things to do. She probably did. The flicker of nerves and a hint of embarrassment in her eyes and light blush belied her exaggerated nonchalance and it teased his curiosity. He slowly took it from her hand and his eyes instantly widened.

"These… are today's class notes?".

A wave of heartfelt gratitude consumed him, realising that the neat hand-writing and organised pages and tabs in the notebook sang of the thought and care she went into compiling today's curriculum for all four subjects! _Just for him!_ The expensive notebook and smooth blue, black and red ink from her expensive pen practically glowed like precious _loot_. Not only that, he saw that she had drawn little boxes and bubbles to add her own footnotes and notations to help him understand more. He could just cry from the happiness that was numbing his brain. He looked up, slack-jawed and saw that Nakiri was blushing like mad and fidgeting in front of him. Her scowl had lightened and instead she was chewing on her beautiful lips, a clear sign that she was growing evermore impatient. Adorable.

"W-Well obviously. Missing class content is totally inexcusable. You know that our lecturers make no concessions for anyone, even if they have a sick-note from Kishitani- _sensei"._

Bullshit. _Tootsuki's_ lecturers didn't give a fuck if he missed a day or a whole two months of school. The evidence was Tsurigi- _senpai_ missing-in-action for an indecent chunk of the school semester and nobody gave two-shits. Yozora paid his tuition upfront and so the lecturers and chefs still get paid whether he failed class or not. But Yozora chose not to say any of that aloud. He was still basking in Nakiri's warm generosity and kindness. He was thoroughly touched that Nakiri went out of her way to do all this for him. His _Hime-dere_ was too cute and was full of surprises. He counted his lucky stars that he got front row _private_ seats to revel in her. His bravado returned full force and he drank in her visage without any guise to hide his thirsty, despite being less than presentable in his grubby home-clothes. He smirked at her just when her eyes flitted back to him and he ensnared them. Sudden suspicion and wariness lit her amethyst orbs as his expression slowly changed to one of a wicked Cheshire cat.

He _kissed_ the cover of the notebook.

He did so without breaking eye contact and was absolutely giddy to see the horror and embarrassment take over her aghast, red face at his cheeky gesture. He walked right past her stupefied form and delivered her notebook to his bedroom, leaving it on the study desk. When he returned, he saw that she was still a blushing mess as she fought to find the right words to admonish him. _Oh,_ she liked it, huh? Small indirect kisses? Check _that._ Alright, no more teasing now. It wasn't fair because she went out of her way and out of her heavily protected comfort zone to make notes and give it to him. He came back out and went to the fridge. He opened it and leaned his forearm on the fridge-door, the cool air engulfed him.

"I have some watermelon. Want some?".

"No… that's fine. I probably need to go".

"C'mon, I haven't seen another human being all day and I'm kinda lonely".

"…".

"Please?".

"U-Uh… o-oh…umm okay then…".

Yozora smirked and pulled out a dish of already cut watermelon triangles, covered in cling film and brought it over to the kitchen island. Then he took out small plates and forks and delivered everything over to the coffee-table in the living room. Nakiri followed after him and perched gingerly on the edge of the leather couch. The soft creak of the soft leather and the slight dip in the couch was funny because Nakiri did more than just _sit_ on that couch seat last time she was here. It seemed that she was remembering that at that very moment because her face turned three shades darker when he sat beside her. All they needed now was his _snow egg_ to rinse and repeat their first _real_ kiss. Ah yes… she tasted so divine with _his_ dessert on her tongue, _his_ dessert on her lips and _his_ dessert that he tasted from her… before they were rudely interrupted by a text message from her chauffeur notifying that he had arrived and was waiting outside the apartment building.

"It's okay, Nakiri. I'll keep my hands to myself this time… unless you'd settle for another finger?".

"I'm leaving".

"No, no! Okay. I'm sorry! I'm just kidding. Here".

Yozora waved his hands frantically in the air as soon as Nakiri shifted to her feet, desperately trying to assuage her. Okay, he was an idiot for breaching her temper levels. Retreat! He then thrusted a small plate with its fork in her hands and quickly filled it with juicy watermelon pieces. She huffed and sat back down. She flicked her locks over her shoulder and frowned at her plate of fruit. She picked at it with her fork before splitting it into smaller pieces, the tines clinking noisily against the ceramic in the quiet apartment. Yozora took his fill and started stabbing at the watermelon, bringing it to his lips and munching on it with juice dripping back onto his plate. Nakiri was a delicate eater. She made the messiest fruit look like the ultimate food commercial for princesses. He slurped his fork and watched her take small bites. The soft crunching of the red flesh muffled in her cheeks. Like that, they ate in silence.

"I… um… I heard that Yuujou- _senpai_ returned".

Yozora stopped mid-chew. He swallowed.

"Yeah. He'd been gone for a while. He went to _Kyoto_ for a _quest"._

"What kind of _quest_ was it?".

"I dunno. No flaming idea. It didn't come through the _blog._ If it comes through the blog, they go on a waitlist. First come, first serve and we go through it together and see which one is best to do first. But this person came through _another NPC_ of ours from _Kyoto._ They contacted Tsurugi- _senpai_ directly _._ Which means it's something only he could do, and the reward at the end would be _really good"._

"And Yuujou- _senpai_ … didn't tell you the details, even though you're the _President_ of the RS?".

"He's a dick. So _no_ ".

Nakiri gasped and turned away, affronted by his cussing as she paled through her flush. Yozora blushed and promised himself no more of that in front of Nakiri. Swearing was off the table, it seemed. The silence grew steadily more comfortable as Yozora continued to silently observe Nakiri as he ate. Her shoulders loosened up and her posture finally relaxed into the couch. She'd finished her plate of watermelon and was just fiddling with her fork now.

"Thanks for coming, and thanks for the notes", said Yozora.

"I-It's nothing".

It wasn't nothing… and she deserved a lot more than a kiss on her notebook and some watermelon.

Yozora placed his empty plate on the coffee table, careful to not let the juices spill. He slowly twisted his body, trying not to alarm her. Her eyes went straight to him anyway but she was too late. Yozora had braced his other arm on the couch back-rest for balance, leaned forward and just then, a small lock of hair tumbled in front of her face, resting just in front of her cheek, but with one swift slide of his thumb it was brushed out of the way. Looking into Nakiri's eyes, he saw deep twin pools of violet that displayed her soul. His lips touched her cheek. Time stopped and Yozora's heart came to a halt. His other hand took up hers, resting on her lap, and locked their fingers together similar to puzzle pieces. As the soft skin of her warm cheeks left his lips, the skin of his dry lips burned and tingled in its memory. A hot blazing fire pulsed through him. Yozora did nothing to stamp it down as he pulled away silently, but their eyes have locked saying more than words could ever convey.

Nakiri instantly shifted away from him, the increased distance was really telling of her worries and reservations about their burgeoning skinship. It felt cold, but he paid it no further mind for her sake. She put her plate next to his and tucked both her hands between her thighs, as if to keep herself withdrawn and warm without him. She completely avoided his eyes this time.

"I-I ummm… I visited you in sick-bay yesterday. I don't know if you knew. You were sleeping I suppose, so probably not. I-I didn't stay that long since I had classes and de-briefing with the Election Committee after. But… umm… What _really_ happened out there?".

Yozora grounded his teeth.

"I don't know".

She whipped his head towards him. Her eyes showed the kind of fretting concern Hayato-kun had. He wished she didn't give him those large, beseeching eyes. This was going to make it harder for him to lie. He laid his hand lightly on her shoulder and instead of flinching like he thought she would, she just relaxed into his touch. He left his hand there and spoke with a soft voice which he hoped would calm and ease her worry.

"My earpieces malfunctioned and short circuited in my ear. I haven't been maintaining them that well, and I guess it was time for a new one and stupid-me forgot to order a new pair".

Nakiri nodded with pursed lips, accepting his answer.

"And your hearing? Are you still able to hear normally?".

"Yeah, I think so. But I think my _'perfect pitch'_ won't be so perfect anymore. Truthfully, I'm not going to really miss it if it goes".

 _"Perfect pitch?"_ , asked Nakiri.

"I can listen to any note or pitch and identify it correctly without having a reference note, and then reproduce it correctly too".

Her face transformed into wonder as she took that in. The brightness in her eyes tickled him pink and suddenly he was excited to keep talking.

"So what does it mean, to have _perfect pitch_?", asked Nakiri.

"I perceive pitch in its _absoluteness_ or just the pure pitch, ignoring everything else. If I hear an A-flat two _octaves_ up, I'll know to say it's an A2-flat without missing a beat. If I hear a random five-note chord, I can name you all five notes that make up that chord without any trouble. It means that I can transpose instruments from the original key in a score easily. I can compose and arrange music more easily. I can make accurate transcriptions for multi-instrument pieces a little more easily. Basically, I can listen to a whole piece once and then reproduce it exactly on the piano too. I can hear a note in my head before I play it. I can join in an improv-session without being told what key everyone is in then I can instantly identify the next chord. _Melodic dictation_ and _harmonic analysis_ is effortless too".

"Why would you not want to have perfect pitch anymore?", asked Nakiri.

Yozora exhaled. "There isn't really that many advantages to having 'perfect pitch' that's actually practical or useful for musicians, apart from what I've told you. It's more trouble for me than it's worth. Having perfect pitch doesn't help _that_ much and in my opinion, it's overrated. Having a good sense of _relative pitch_ is enough. I think if I _didn't_ have _perfect pitch_ , my life as a classical musician would've been better".

"How so?".

Yozora thought for moment.

"Having perfect pitch also means that unless everything I hear is in the'correct pitch' or the 'right or original key', it grates on my nerves or sounds awful to me. So, transposing to _different_ keys sucks a lot. I can play perfectly in tune with everyone in an orchestra, but the discrepancy between my 'internal pitch', and the pitch the ensemble was playing in, can sometimes be so obvious and it bothered me a lot, which is mentally and emotionally draining. I also remember going to a solo piano concert and one of the F-sharp was _slightly_ flat and it was just enough to piss me off the whole time. Even now, I internally lose my shit if Hayato-kun is off by a _quarter tone_ when he's practicing his flute. I guess, despite _perfect pitch_ making studying and performing heaps better than other musicians without _perfect pitch_ , therefore making me _sound_ like a musical genius, it also… stopped me from _growing_ _more_ as a musician".

Yozora examined the beauty sitting next him wondering if she understood anything he said. She looked really contemplative. She was silent and listening with a wistful expression on her face. Her brows weren't tight, but he could see that there were many gears turning in her head. How could he explain it in another way? Ordinarily, if he told another musician that he had _perfect pitch_ , there would be two different reactions. Either they would stare at him in wonder and shower him with praises for how wonderful it was to have such a rare, auditory phenomenon that fast-tracked him to achieve musical excellence and wished they had _perfect pitch_ too, or they would immediately sympathise and shake their head, and lamented about how bad they felt for him because he couldn't play Baroque music and commiserate together. He watched Nakiri's reactions, but she didn't have much of a reaction. He wasn't really good at explaining his 'first world problems' related to his sense of _perfect pitch_ to other non-musicians.

"Every time I hear a motorcycle outside, I recognise the multiple pitches generated by its engine. Every bird call has a pitch as well as the air conditioner in my apartment, the fridge, microwave and washing machine. People's voices, the car engines, the elevator, the florescent light in the lobby, the wind, dog barks… even the computer humming… I get bombarded with all this … _auditory data_ and my brain forces me to analyse it to death. If it doesn't sound 'right' to me even by a _quarter_ _tone_ …".

Yozora closed his eyes and gulped.

"… With _perfect pitch,_ I can't _appreciate_ or _enjoy_ the music and sounds as much as I'd like… and I can't turn it off".

Suddenly, something soft and cool touched his face, making him automatically lean in closer. It was Nakiri's feather light finger tips touching his warm cheeks. Hesitant, still. His anxiety seeped out with her barely-there caresses. He shuddered a breath.

"When I met Kasai _-senpai_ and Tsurugi _-senpai,_ they helped me to _…_ manage _…_ my _perfect pitch_ so I could deal with it and didn't go insane all the time. Listening to music attuned to my senses of _perfect_ _pitch_ was one of them to calm me down, and putting on noise-cancelling headphones too to block out the everyday noises. Then after that, there was harsh training to continuously expose me to different variations in the same pieces so that my _perfect pitch_ could be indexed to other pitch standards and I would create different recipes based on them, along with the original composition with the original _key signature._ It was excruciating, but I made it through and I _actually_ learned to really like new and varied pieces more than I did before. The gift of possessing a _perfect_ sense whether it's, _hearing pitch_ , or _smelling smells_ or _…_ _tasting food_ … doesn't really fit in a world that isn't perfect, right?".

"…"

Nakiri dropped her hand from his cheek and into her lap.

 _Bzzt!_

His pants pocket vibrated and Yozora fished it out.

* * *

' _Hey Yo-kun._

 _Yukihira-kun, Tsurugi-senpai and I  
stopped by the konbini and are on our way  
back to the apartment. We're dropping off  
some food for you so don't worry about  
making anything. We won't stay long, so  
rest easy. If you could unhook the PS3 and the  
4 controllers, that would be awesome! If not,  
that's fine. Polar Star Dorm wants to  
_ _borrow it for the night._

 _-Hayato_

* * *

' _Shit, shit, shit, shit!'_

"What is it?", asked Nakiri.

"Hayato-kun, Yukihira and Tsurugi- _senpai_ are coming back to the apartment".

"Now?".

"Yes, now".

"W-What?!"

Nakiri leapt out of the couch in her haste, almost hitting her knees against the coffee table. His sentiments exactly. The _konbini_ was a mere two minute walk from their apartment and since Tsurugi- _senpai's_ strides were longer, they would get here in under two minutes! There was no way Nakiri was ready for the both of them to be walked-in on, _alone_ on in _his_ apartment! Yozora strode over to the window and peaked outside. Sure enough, Hayato-kun's blonde hair and Yukihira's spiky crimson hair and Tsurugi- _senpai's_ wild dark-brown mane were making their way down the street towards the apartment lobby. He bit his lips. If Nakiri left the apartment now, she would bump into them in the elevator and who knew what inappropriate or insinuating and crass thing would leave Tsurugi- _senpai's_ lips! He looked back over thinking double-time for what he should do. Nakiri was floundering around and hyperventilating. If she knew how close they were to reaching the door, she'd probably have an panic-attack. First thing's first, he switched his phone to silent and he quickly cleaned up the table, putting all the dishes in the sink and the plate of watermelon back in the fridge. He didn't really want to deal with his three friends while Nakiri was hiding out somewhere in the apartment too, he wouldn't be able to handle it if she was frightened and alone in some dark corner in the apartment, and those three would be hella suspicious and know something was up if he wasn't acting right. _Kami-sama!_ This was so stressful.

"I'm not supposed to be here!", Nakiri groaned.

Yozora estimated that they would be in the elevators by now. Double crap. No time left!

"Let's hide".

"Hide?! How?!".

"C'mere!".

Yozora grabbed Nakiri's hand and grabbed her school bag in the other. He dragged her to his bedroom and threw her bag under his bed, hidden from sight. He looked around for a hiding spot, but his bedroom didn't have any that could be remotely useful for the both of them in anyway. He vaguely heard her splutter about how messy and filthy his bedroom was but he wasn't going to get depressed about how much she disapproved of his sleeping quarters and scanned once more with Nakiri trying to wrestle her hand from his. Finally I had an idea!

Yozora slid open his _futon_ closet. It'll have to do.

" _Hey!"_

Without a thought, he scooped up Nakiri from the knees and hefted her into his chest. She squealed but he ignored it as he struggled to get her into a secure 'Princess hold'. Fuck! She was heavy! It didn't matter anymore, because Yozora forced his burning muscles to bundle her into the _futon_ closet and he climbed in with her. Just as the jangle of keys echoed around the apartment along with Hayato-kun's and Yukihira's raucous laughter, he slid his _futon_ closet door shut as quickly and as quietly as he could.

Yozora panted, trying really hard not to crush Nakiri under the length of his body. The closet smelled like washing detergent and clean sheets, but Nakiri's hot breath washing over his face, mingled with her perfume and made a heady concoction that in any other situation, he would've greatly enjoy. He shifted his knees slightly, trying not to hit his back against the upper partition that separated his sliding closet into three levels. He hadn't been really thinking, he'd just shoved Nakiri into the middle level. Suddenly, she jerked beneath him and he bit his lip to stop himself from grunting. Her panting became more rapid along with her fidgeting. Her claustrophobia and panic were setting in and he did his best to give her as much room beneath him as possible. Except it was impossible! He felt almost every curve of her body pressed against his. Her breasts pushed up into his chest, the soft pillowy masses rubbed against his thin shirt, sending sparks and electricity running over his skin. Her legs kept brushing up into his inner thigh, making his blood rush down south from how tantalising and good that felt. He moved his head to listen keenly to what the hell was happening out there and willing his three friends to hurry up, take the freaking PS3 and go, so that he and Nakiri could get the hell out of there before she could feel his boner and dump him. Her scent intensified and he resisted the need to dip his nose into her hair and neck and inhale like it was the last day on Earth. His arms started to tremble from holding himself up above her, his exertion starting to make itself known. He was so glad that it was too dark to see each other's face. He'd bet he looked like a ripe tomato and he'd also bet, she'd look disgusted with him.

" _Yo-kun! We're home!"._

Yozora sucked in a breath, panic gripping him. Nakiri instantly grabbed onto his shirt and shoved her face into his chest, almost making him loose his balance and collapse right on top of her. He could practically taste the fear from her from the prospect of being caught shoved in the closet with him, and Yozora kicked his brain into over-drive once more to figure out ways to calm her down. Fuck, he should've drunk more coffee. Instead, he slowly lowered himself onto his elbow, which meant molding the rest of his body and legs to fit along hers, covering her completely now, trying to cover her up as much as possible. He didn't know how much that would help, but he couldn't think of anything else! He begged _Kami-sama_ not to let him get a hard-on with his girlfriend crammed in his closet with three other dudes in the apartment! He shuffled his other hand as quietly as he could and wrapped it around Nakiri's back, pressing her to him, trying to transmit as much re-assurance as he could… and keeping his hips as anatomically far away from hers as possible and beg that she didn't detect anything down there!

" _Yo-kun?"._

He heard Hayato-kun call out once more.

" _Maybe he isn't home",_ he heard Yukihira respond.

" _Hmmm, that's odd. His shoes are still here… and there's someone else's shoes here too"._

FUCK.

The hint of suspicion in Hayato-kun's tone was alarming. Hayato-kun was really good at piecing things together, which made him a great help when figuring out _puzzle-dungeons_ in any of their video-games. Yozora swallowed thickly, feeling more sweat coming onto him. Great! Now he was going to get Nakiri all sweaty too! She would definitely dump him, boner or no boner! Nakiri's hands had since moved to his waist and she was gripping onto him for dear life. Her hot puffs of breath against his collar bone and her hair tickling his neck was doing wonders to his body, but wrecking his mind. Her fingernails bit into his skin and he was sure to get crescent mark shaped bruises after this. But he didn't care about that now, he let Nakiri hold him as tightly as she wanted if it was to help her calm down.

" _Quit wasting time. Pack up the PS3 and let's get outta here"_ , came Tsurugi- _senpai's_ growl.

" _Wait a minute! There are plates in the kitchen sink and there's two of them as well! Yo-kun never leaves the apartment with unwashed dishes still in the sink!"_ , yelled Hayato-kun.

DOUBLE FUCK.

" _So what?"_. He heard Yukihira.

" _It means… he's still in the apartment. Lemme check his room!"._

Yozora shut his eyes and felt Nakiri's warm and soft body trembling against him.

" _Not so fast, hot shot",_ grunted Tsurugi-senpai. _"Help Yukihira with the PS3. I'll check. He's probably just sleeping, so keep your voices down"._

The approaching footsteps had the heavy sound of a person in boots. Yozora was instantly relieved it wasn't Hayato-kun and that it was Tsurugi _-senpai._ Even though he knew it was the better choice _,_ coming into his room, he couldn't help but feel it was a heavily-armed _Yakuza_ coming to find and kill him. His and Nakiri's frenetic heartbeats echoed in his ears, tympanic scarring, or no tympanic scarring. Each footfall was evenly spaced from the last, a steady rhythm of predatory slowness. From inferring the halting steps, Tsurugi- _senpai_ was now standing in the middle of his room looking around. He got his breathing steadily under control and pressed his lips to the crown of Nakiri's head and closed his eyes.

 _Whoosh!_

Nakiri gasped into his chest and Yozora jolted as they were bathed in light! He flinched when the light of the outside world stung his eyes and he squinted up to see Tsurugi _-senpai_ leering down at him like a pirate finding the latest booty from his treasure-map. His burning amber gaze danced in merriment and pleasure in catching Yozora red-handing with Nakiri cuddled up in the closet in their pathetic attempt to hide. A wolfish smirk plastered across his chiselled face as he held the door open with his muscular arm, but his hulking body blocked out the view from everything else, thank _Kami-sama_. His thick, wavy brown hair slipped past his bulging neck muscles as he tilted his head at Yozora. Then Tsurugi- _senpai's_ keen eyes slid down and away, landing on the smaller form of Nakiri encased in his arm beneath him. He raised a thick solitary brow knowingly and he felt Nakiri release her head from the curve of his neck for fresh air, and stared up at Tsurugi- _senpai_ before letting out a muffled squeak back into his chest again.

Yozora gulped and licked his lips.

"Say nothing, and my _World_ _of_ _Warcraft_ _Battle Ostrich_ and the _Sword of Azaroth_ is yours".

Tsurugi- _senpai's_ eyes snapped back to his, obviously hearing what he liked. But, that _dick!_ For the shits and giggles, he clicked his tongue in a mocking display of ' _Lemme think about it'_. Yozora's patience was wearing thin and his frustration at being held at his _senpai's_ mercy was really grating on him. Hayato-kun and Yukihira could walk in at any minute! He held onto his _senpai's_ eyes, burning as much fury, determination and seriousness as possible as the tall and large student stared down at him with much more humour. With a final wide grin. He slid shut the _futon_ closet door without a word and Yozora and Nakiri were once again bathed in darkness.

" _He's not here. Let's go. We're burning daylight!"._

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* * *

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 _ **Three Days Later**_

"Alright, let's get this over with. I have a tonne of catching up to do with class".

Once again, Yozora felt his authority as the President of _The Guild_ by yet another _senpai._ He was supposed to be the one to hold the meeting, but Tsurugi- _senpai_ had beaten him to the punch… and Kasai _-senpai_ was busy so he skipped. He grimaced but let it go.

He couldn't look at Tsurugi- _senpai_ in the eyes anymore.

The behemoth _senpai_ leaned against the clubroom kitchen bench and rifled through his book-bag. _The Guild's_ clubroom was in the middle of moving to a new RS building, just as Isshiki- _senpai_ had promised. It was littered with moving boxes with their equipment and their RS-acquired utensils they planned to take with them, all neatly inside, as well as their recipe compositions. There were a few other heavy duty appliances pulled out and placed on the bench for preparation, but they needed to get more moving boxes for those. Also, their food pantry and freezer hadn't been cleaned out yet. They planned to do it as the very last thing, when the refrigeration was up and running in the new building. A building all to themselves! That was the life! Both Yozora and Hayato-kun were very diligent in organising and packing, their excitement fuelling them on. Things to keep and things that could be left behind while Kasai - _senpai_ hadmade an inventory list for the new place so that they could keep better track of their stuff for the new place. He couldn't wait to move into a bigger and better kitchen!

"So, the _NPC_ I did the quest for wrote a letter for you, Yozora".

Yozora screwed his brow. A letter? What did they want to say to him? Tsurugi- _senpai_ passed a thick bundle of calligraphic _washi_ paper folded up and held together with a red and white _mizuhiki_ knot. Damn, that was one long letter from seeing the thickness. He passed it to Hayato-kun, who then passed it to Yozora, who was also perplexed and curious. He eyed the ornate envelope. These _mizuhiki_ knots were meant to be used for gifts for traditional occasions, and each different type of knot had a special meaning. In this case, Yozora recognised the expertly tied knot as _'good fortune'_ or wishing _'good luck'._ Was their NPC an strange old-timer or something?

"What was the _reward?",_ asked Yozora.

"Read the letter first, then you'll know".

Yozora grumbled and did so anyway. Hayato-kun scooted closer to him and peered over his shoulder as he carefully removed the _mizuhiki_ knot.

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* * *

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 _Dear Guild Master,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. Autumn in Kyoto is spectacular and I wish you could see the Momiji at Kiyomizu Temple. It truly is a sight to behold. I also hope that I'm not intruding on you by writing you this letter. I must confess that the reward I had planned to fashion for you and your other members will take some time. Yuujou-san has been an invaluable help to me and I made his reward first to express my thanks and gratitude for his service at such short notice. I wanted to make sure that the reward you receive is good enough to uphold the hard-work and skill you have gained over the years, and is strong enough to bear your enormous spirit as you continue to lead The Guild. So, I ask for your patience._

 _First, I must explain my background, since Yuujou-san told me he didn't say anything before he left for Kyoto._

 _I come from a well-known katana-kaji clan dating back to the Muromachi Jidai. I've been studying and training under my grandfather since a very young age in the art of sword-smithing. Even though I'm a high-schooler just like you, I too have dreams and aspirations that go beyond the conventional. Yuujou-san been told that you are prodigious when it came to music, and how talented and creative you are in bringing your sense of music into your food. If I understood the idea correctly, you also weave the stories_ _the music tells into your dishes? I think that's really clever! Story-telling no matter what form is the most powerful way to put ideas into the world today. You may even change the world. I'm confident to say that I can walk in your shoes to some degree. For each of the blade I make, I dream they will serve their masters in carving out their own stories too._

 _Now, I was initially hesitant to reveal my family name, but after working with Yuujou-senpai, I'm ever confident and proud. From my mother's side, I'm a direct descendant of Muramasa Sengo…_

 _._

 _._

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* * *

 _._

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 _._

 _"Muramasa?! The Muramasa?!_ No way!", gasped Hayato-kun.

Yozora eyes could be any larger. No kidding. Almost everyone who took history classes, knew about Muramasa from _Muromachi Jidai_ , the infamous demonic blade-smith, even more so, the legend of the _Demonic Cursed Blade_ forged by him. As the stories went, he was a mentally unstable, vindictive, violent, ill-tempered and he verged on madness. These qualities were supposed to have passed onto the blades he forged. They were believed to hunger for blood and impel their warriors to kill, kill, kill. They said that a _Muramasa Blade_ has to draw blood before it could be returned to its scabbard. Yozora was thoroughly intrigued.

He continued reading.

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* * *

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… _I'm sure that sent a shiver down your spine, to learn that I come from the notorious Demon Katana-Kaji. Muramasa-sama's legacy caused a huge stigma in my family, who were also all katana-kaji. Their business fell into ruins and the family stopped making katana and instead took up other crafts such as farming and carpentry and our entire hard-earned, and unique, specialist skills were abandoned. However, a part of the family maintained the sword-smithing legacy, but had to change their family name. My grandfather, his father before him, and HIS father before him and so on were that family._

 _I believe that my ancestor was misunderstood, due to the non-existing knowledge of mental health disorders during the ancient times. I did my research and he probably had bipolar disorder. He was easily manipulated by samurai and other swordsmen with ignoble intentions, which caused his works to fall out of favour with Shogunate and The Japanese Government._

 _I wanted to revive the Japanese sword-smithing craft under Muramasa's name and I want to show that his exemplary skill passed on through me in my grandfather's teachings with none of the madness the fables perpetuate._

 _The thing was, nobody wanted my blades once I revealed my ancestry, as they still believed in the Cursed Demon Swords Legend. Not even kitchen knives made by me were wanted by chefs in this day and age. I wasn't prepared for the devastation I felt. I was so close to abandoning my dreams of being Japan's greatest, female katana kaji until I heard about The Guild from an acquaintance from my hometown in Kyoto. I inquired about it as my last ditch attempt and the rest was history when Yuujou-san took my request_ _…_

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* * *

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"Tsurugi-senpai…", Hayato-kun said breathlessly.

"Yep. I helped her showcase and tour around Southern Japan in knife demonstrations using kitchen knife sets forged by her, using Muramasa's techniques. The Cursed Demon Blade thing might be true for _Muramasa_ or whatever _,_ but it wasn't for his great-great-great-great-great-great- grand-daughter. Truth be told, I don't really believe in those tales, but when I used her knives, I only felt her determination, blood, sweat, tears, hope, gentleness, courage, kindness, honour and love. Her blades… really are the best of her generation… and the best I've ever used. They were _perfect_ for me and my dishes went up a _level_ because of them too".

Tsurugi- _senpai_ dug something else out of his bag and it was a rolled-up leather bundle. Yozora and Hayato-kun got up from their chairs and staggered towards him as he unfurled the bundle on the kitchen bench.

One by one… the gleaming silvery metal radiantly sang as they curled away from each other into view. They were held to the large thick, sheet of leather with individual leather straps.

Three _beautifully_ forged kitchen knives.

Yozora's breath left his body. He'd never seen anything that looked so ancient and majestic in his life! Everything about it was precise. It was a cleaver, a _sushi_ knife, and a chef's knife. From the looks alone, only top-end chefs would carry these when they were cooking for the elites, of the elites. He was sure that once they were time-ravaged, they deserved a place in the museums. Yozora itched to hold one by its hardwood handle and turn it around in his hand, wanting to feel the weight of it. If it was made by the hands of a _katana_ - _kaji_ , it had to be _honoki_ wood. Polished and stunning. It was perfectly hand-honed to Tsurugi- _senpai's_ grip. It felt heavier in his palm. The weight of the blade and handles were fucking _tailoured_ to Tsurugi- _senpai!_ What detail! His face lifted from a frown… to neutral… to the greatest smile he'd worn since forever. They shone in the sunlight as if it were fashioned from the brilliant rays themselves. The most striking of all was the _pattern_ on the blade and the thin-as-fuck, shiny strip along the line of the cutting edge. It definitely was the sign of being made by a _katana-kaji_ , not factory produced. The dark ripples, all unique for each blade, were on the edges, but there was a symmetry to them that really drew in his eyes more than anything else. He had to flip the blade over a few times to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The gleam of the silvery surface, perfectly smooth and free from any stains were mouth-watering.

"For some reason, her style showed the same unusual features that mirrored Muramasa's peculiar style, which her grandfather never taught her. I don't know if that _means_ anything, but it's pretty cool", said Tsurugi- _senpai._ "For starters, the mirror-image _hamon,_ which is the visual effect of the wavy line you get at the cutting edge during the hardening process. Usually it would have the _midareba_ with randomised and very shallow valleys, almost touching the cutting edge. Then there's the fish-belly shape of the _nakago_ , called the _tanagobara,_ which you can't actually see because it's in the handle".

Each blade looked sharp enough to break skin on the lightest contact. Any pressure and it would be through the muscle and hitting white bone. Yozora felt that since these knives were created by a _katana-kaji_ , probably trained specifically to forge _katana_ than with kitchen knives _,_ there had to be a special connection there for the soul. The blades, fashioned from hot, grey _tamahagone_ were cool to the touch as he caressed the flat of the blade. He swore, it hummed and sang.

' _She really is a prodigy'._

"Each knife has a name too", said Tsurugi- _senpai._

"Where?", asked Hayato, lifting the cleaver and inspecting the butt of the handle.

"It's engraved in the _nakago_ ".

Names? As far as Yozora knew, the date of when a sword was made was usually scribed onto the _nakago_ or the 'tang' before fastening the handle over it, not their names. Even then, swords were supposed to be named _after_ they've done something, right? This was a highly unusual _katana-kaji_. He pondered on the significance of engraving the name of the kitchen knives into the _nakago_ , hidden in the handles. Maybe it was the _katana-kaji's_ way of making sure the blades lived up to their destinies? The more he thought about it, the sillier and more ridiculous it sounded, but there was a level or romanticism to it that Yozora could appreciate. He imagined Tsurugi- _senpai_ curling his fingers around the _honoki_ wood when he cooked, the _name... the soul..._ of his knife resting in his hold.

"What are the knives names?", asked Yozora.

" _Ha-ou no Taiken… Megumi-ou no Tate…_ and _Shura-ou no Ha"._

' _Largesword of the Dynast King… Shield of the Merciful King… Blade of the Chaos King… These are really grand names and full of power. Maybe even over the top'._

He stepped away and continued to read the letter…

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* * *

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… _Yuujou-san helped me prove that my blades aren't cursed by my lineage but are instead filled with the qualities I wanted. Hard work, my strength, my love and my new-found courage. Each blade is important and special to me, as they will be important and special to the new owners. So I try to give each blade a name that would uphold the values of the owners and the values they aspire to have. Yuujou-san told me all about The Guild, what you guys stand for and the values you place in your cooking style through music. I was really inspired and overcome with so many emotions that I knew I had to keep chasing down my dream. Perhaps that was how I convinced Yuujou-san to take time out of his busy school schedule and help me._

 _I'm very glad and proud to say that the quest was a huge success, even if little by little people are recognising my skills and my family name as beyond the exaggerated stories of my unfortunate ancestor. I'm currently designing three more sets of kitchen knives for you, Ginsekai-san and Ishikagaku-san and I will name them for you all, based on what Yuujou-san has told me about you guys._

 _I should have it done_ _ **by the time you really need them.**_

 _Right now, I'm currently forging my first uchigatana for my father. He is currently overseas for a conference with INTERPOL and will return in time for his birthday. My father's side are from a samurai clan, so that's a lovely match and I know he would appreciate it. I normally don't name my blades until AFTER I've finished making it, as I did with Yuujou-san's. But in this case, I'll make an exception._

 _I'm thinking of naming my father's uchigatana,_ _ **Mugen!**_

 _Yours since—_

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* * *

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 _BAM!_

"Ah. I figured you all would still be here"

 _"Kasai-senpai!",_ gasped Hayato-kun

Yozora accidentally crumpled a bit of the calligraphy paper in his hands from the shock. Kasai- _senpai_ in all his pristine uniform glory strode into the room. He pushed his spectacles up his nose and cleared his throat, meaning he had something important to add to their meeting. Man, it'd been a long time since all four members of _The Guild_ were in the same room.

"I have further news on the _infrasonic attack_ on Yozora-kun".

"What? What did _she_ say!", Hayato-kun bounced in his chair.

"It wasn't Mimasaka _or_ Eizan who did it".

Yozora's blood went cold.

"As per my _quest,_ she took time out of studying for her mid-terms for us. She found that _both_ Eizan- _senpai_ and Mimasaka were clean. She'd hacked all their devices, correspondences, school accounts, out-going and in-going data, their internet searches and phone records, and even recovered things they've deleted to double-check. There were no traces or evidence to suggest that they hi-jacked Yozora-kun's earpieces or even contracting someone else to do it".

Their _NPC_ was nothing short of perfection when it came to hacking and cracking, so he trusted her information and skill completely. Yozora licked his dry lips.

' _If not them… then WHO?'._

Not knowing anything bugged him endlessly. That was the trillion-yen question. For what he could tell, he didn't have any _real_ enemies besides Eizan- _senpai_ and Mimasaka. Sure, the vast majority of the school was unsupportive of _The Guild,_ but that didn't warrant pulling his earpieces apart and planting shit to fuck up his hearing. Yozora began to loose control of his breathing.

' _Who ELSE didn't want me to advance in the competition… and would go to great lengths to make sure of it…?'_

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 **Introducing** _ **Tootsuki's**_ **Australian International Students! Andrew King (President), Layla Hajjar, Yuxuan Wang and Brianna Fletcher.** **Australia is a highly multi-cultural country, so I picked out the ethnicities I grew up with in my childhood to create my Aussie OCs. They're not based on anyone I know. I took the ethnicity and personified them using particular subtle traits I experienced frequently and shaped them into a cast of diverse minor OCs to spice things up in** _ **Tootsuki**_ **. Otherwise, I hope you've enjoyed all of my shameless, self-serving Australian Cuisine advertisement.**

 **I've always wanted to write something about Yozora and Erina being crammed into a small space! It was a lot of fun. Now we (and Erina) have a better sense of a CONTRIBUTING factor for why Yozora may have left the musical world. He has 'perfect pitch' (or absolute pitch) and felt that it was interfering with his growth as a professional classical musician, more than helped him. If having 'perfect pitch' made Yozora feel this way, imagine what 'God's Tongue' will end up doing to Erina?**

 **Now we know, exactly what Tsurugi-senpai has been up to on his quest! _The Guild_ has gained another _NPC._** **Let's see what our current active** _ **NPCs**_ **are:**

 **1\. The Barista  
** **2\. The Coffee Roaster  
** **3\. The Cracker  
4\. Isshiki Satoshi  
** **5\. The Katana-Kaji (Swordsmith).  
6\. ?**

 **Don't forget to hop over to my profile page and take part in the Poll to pick who your favourite OCs from _T_** _ **he Guild**_ **are, and see who others have picked :) Let me know what you guys think of the chapter or story so far. Until next time, have an awesome week!**

 **Signing-off**

 **-TripWire-dono**


	22. Prayer de LUNA

**Wow, it's been 3 months! :( Does a 16K words make up for lost time?**

* * *

 _Chapter 22 - Prayer de LUNA_

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" _The escalating battle of nerves between Japan and China over a disputed island chain has focused the international spotlight on Prime Minister Oushirushi, Japan's pugnaciously conservative Prime Minister, who is carrying the heavy responsibility of war and peace on his hunched shoulders"_

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* * *

Hayato shifted in his uncomfortable seat and blew his flaxon fringe out of the way. He concentrated on the familiar face of the Japanese Prime Minister centred in the video clip playing on his phone. The loud echoes in the stadium did little to distract him as he listened intently to the freelance journalist's critical opinions on their nation's leader. The Prime Minister was fitter looking than what one would expect from that strategic camera view. He had a lean body beneath his autumnal garb and his expression was serious but not unkind. He had that salt'n'pepper look in his hair that was neatly combed back from his rapidly aging skin. Politics could do that.

The man was somewhere in his mid-forties and he used a _cane_ to walk.

The gait of his right leg had the fluidity of youth but the other was slightly jagged like he spent decades trying to control it. Hayato's eyes flitted between the journalist, the close-captions and the stately politician in a rough triangle. The Prime Minister sat in the arm-chair in the re-run interview clip with a heavily concealed awkwardness. Like few politicians, his voice was warm and rich as he politely and intelligently answered the interviewer's questions. The clip suddenly returned from the over-eager freelance journalist to the news anchor.

He adjusted his earbuds and turned up the volume.

* * *

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" _Since taking office for the fourth time a year ago, Prime Minister Oushirushi has avoided hot-headed actions and kept his political powers dry. But he is no patsy either. Nobody knows for sure which way he may jump, if push comes to shove"._

 _._

* * *

He really should be putting his phone away now, but as soon as the video notification had 'dinged' on his phone, he couldn't click the play button fast enough because he thought himself an idiot that acted first and thought later. He was already three-quarters of the way through the video so he'd just stick it out. While absorbed in the clip, Hayato ruminated on if the media reports were even true, or perhaps true in part but so bias in their representation or omissions that he was being led by the nose to think whatever someone wanted him to think. Hayato tried to keep an open mind about everything, even the Japanese news.

The news was never just 'the news'. Every day when an average citizen watched the news, they only saw a partial story. So unless one trained themselves in critical thought, they would be a puppet of the media and advertisers. It didn't help that Japan, being very adverse to negative appearances and about 'saving face', didn't exactly have a _'_ right to know' or freedom of information like some other countries. The government decided what the people _needed_ to know and most people were happy to accept that with no real choice to be given in the first place. Authority was authority, and it was in their blood to respect authority. The media was basically beholden to the government _'press clubs'_. One bad article about some important member in the cabinet, and that journalist would be denied access to those politicians in the future.

* * *

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" _Danger militarist or modern reformer? Prime Minister Oushirushi has rarely lacked controversy. Born to an affluent and influential family, he became Japan's youngest-ever Prime Minister in 2006. "And with just as much notoriety and probably the most dissected and most criticised aspect of his personal and political life, himself and his only son were the sole survivors to a tragic car accident that also killed Japan's First Lady—"._

 _._

* * *

" _Oof!"._

Hayato lurched forward as Daigo and Shouji collided into his small, left shoulder. He fumbled his phone from within his sweaty grip but he managed to catch it in time. He roughly dislodged his earbuds from his red and burning ears and opened his mouth to blast the entirely unwelcomed interruption.

"Watch it, you guys!", he yelled.

Hayato snarled at them disdainfully. When he began to verbalise more unkind thoughts about the rough-and-tumble Polar Star Trouble-makers, he cut himself off. No… it was best not to start shit up for nothing. Thoroughly vex but his emotions back in check, he nudged Daigo back. The two boys hardly noticed his exclamation or his feeble attempts to remind them that there were other people around, not just the two. They continued their careless and jovial banter which to his disappointment had become increasingly animated. Hayato scowled severely and hunched his shoulders together in submission, trying to make himself as small as possible, while he continued to listen to the media report with his single-minded determination.

* * *

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" _His continuing interest in re-interpreting Article Nine of Japan's Pacifist Constitution, to allow the country to develop its military might unchecked, is seen as similarly inflammatory by the Chinese and Koreans, and further proof of his revisionist views..."._

 _._

* * *

Hayato mulled over his thoughts as he fast forward the re-hashed soliloquy on the Prime Minister's leadership. Finally the title card rolled before it came to a stop, allowing for the stadium noise to return to his reality. For the time being, Prime Minister Oushirushi looked secure. His main focus since office had been on economic recovery, which apparently Japan's other aspirations depended on. His policies had boosted economic activity and the GDP growth, and it produced a big lift in the financial markets. Predictably economists in recession-hit Europe and the US have suggested they follow Japan's example. Twelve months into his third term, with the economy improving and his party in firm control of both houses of parliament, he remained unusually popular in a country where past Prime Ministers have come-and-gone with startlingly rapidity in the past.

Three terms.

He was pretty much Japan's longest serving Prime Minister now.

"Earth to Hayato-kun".

"WOAH!".

 _Fuckity-fuck!_ His heart jerked through his rib-cage. Hayato dropped his phone for real and back-pedalled in his seat. The sight of a pair of familiar shoes beside his phone steered away his embarrassment, knowing that the double-scuff marks on the school loafers belonged to only his best friend in the whole-wide-world. Hayato peeked up through his lashes hesitantly to see Yo-kun reeling his hand back as if patting him on the shoulder caused Hayato to combust. He might as well have! _Kami-sama!_ He hated being snuck upon! Yo-kun tilted his head at him in confusion and Hayato immediately recomposed himself. He sprung for his phone and dusted it off while inspecting the screen. There was a huge jagged crack across the corner. Well, thank fuck for tempered glass screen protectors at least. The beauty of that was that the screen-protector was cracked, but not the actual screen. He would switch it out with the spare in a month or two. Yo-kun offered him an apologetic and empathetic wince and Hayato-kun just shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'not a big deal' and stuffed it in his pocket. He scooted over so Yo-kun could have a seat and released a big sigh.

"What's got your attention so bad?", asked Yo-kun.

"N-Nothing special. Just some recommended online videos".

"Like?".

"Game-play".

"Right…".

Hayato suppressed his smile as he bobbed his head in a clumsy nod. The blonde gamer-chef gazed out into the stadium for the highly anticipated Three-Way Finals Battle. It was the first ever in _Tootsuki_ history. But Hayato wasn't really feeling it despite the whiplashing energy conjured by the excitable crowd. It was a big deal for everyone else because it established the formative pecking order of the first year high-school students and their tumultuous journey to become the future Elite Ten. He couldn't bring himself to be ramped up knowing that Yo-kun, as stony faced and passive-looking as he was, was out of the competition. Sure Yukihira-kun, his newly acquired good friend was competing and he was happy for him to be fighting in the finals, and he sure as fuck wanted him to wipe the floor with Hayama's and Kurokiba's face too…

… but he _wasn't_ Yo-kun.

The drone of electrified chatter was dull white-noise to him and soon his knee jigged up and down impatient for this whole thing to be over so that they all could get back to their normal routines.

"You _can_ watch the news when I'm around you know. You don't have to hide it".

Hayato momentarily froze then gulped. His embarrassment in being caught, returned twice fold and made his ears hotter. Yo-kun could see right through him.

"Yeah… It's just –… you _know_ …". Hayato weakly gesticulated at his friend.

Yo-kun was mute in response and continuing facing the front. Yo-kun had his legs artfully crossed over each other and his arms folded over his chest as he leaned back, going for a decent mimic of the postural Kasai- _senpai._ They had this conversation before, but Hayato, trying his hardest to be forever considerate of his friend still maintained his stance to avoid anything to do with politics around his best friend, no matter how much Yo-kun said he was okay with it. Yo-kun looked peeved and kept pulling his earlobe without unfolding his arms. He also looked like he didn't get a wink last night with the way he just blearily stared out through hooded lids. Hayato bet his _coins_ that Yo-kun was low-key still stewing about his defeat to Hayama and was losing sleep over it. When Yo-kun came back to school, not a single person asked him about his break-down or even mentioned his battle with the Spice Master while in his presence. Polar Star zipped it… and like true high-school student fashion, complained and bemoaned about other educational woes, like upcoming exams and essays. Even Yukihira was tight-lipped regarding his own upcoming match when he was around Yo-kun and he was all about tackling the written exams and the latest food trend to come out of Istanbul or some trivial shit like that. It was _fucking_ _cringy_ to watch. It was as if Polar Star couldn't make dancing around the sensitive topic anymore obvious due to their unanimous fear of Tsurugi- _senpai_ personally choke-slamming each of them through the floor if they trigger the dark-haired gamer-chef.

The effects seemed to have reached Nakiri Erina also, though Hayato wasn't sure if Tsurugi- _senpai_ spoke to her… he also bet Yo-kun was keeping the truth of the infrasonic attack from her for whatever ridiculous noble reason.

She'd been nicer to Yo-kun such as speaking to him without scowling, and stretching out their conversations to longer than thirty seconds. He was sure _that_ was out of pity more than anything. In the beginning, it'd been tricky to tell if Yo-kun had really given two-shits if people were trying to bubble wrap him or not in the first place. But towards the end of the day, his weariness and annoyance took shape by dashing from their classes post-haste to get away from the elephant in the room with Nakiri sneaking away close behind with some half-baked excuse about being late for an Elite-Ten meeting.

" _Ladies and gentlemen! It seems everything is ready"._

Hayato's ear pricked up to the soothing and melodic sound of Isshiki- _senpai's_ amplified voice _._ The blonde was more uplifted to see that he would be handling the emcee duties this time. The crowd quietened as they held their breaths for the commencement and the tension kicked up a notch. The little gasp behind him made Hayato turn around in and he saw Yuuki-chan looking flabbergasted one seat up from him, as if she didn't at first recognise Isshiki- _senpai_ looking so dapper— oh right… he's usually buck-naked under an apron back at the dorm.

" _This evening, our theme is_ _ **Australian Desserts.**_ _Now_ _please allow me to introduce our final three judges for the evening"._

The murmurings returned. Hayato inspected the judging panel and was delightfully surprised that the three spaces were empty. Usually the judges would already be seated there, waiting for introductions. He was getting invested now. He looked a bit further and saw Director Nakiri and Chef Doujima were in the VIP stands, meaning they weren't judging so that piqued his curiosity even further. Who could be illustrious enough, even more so than Director Nakiri that they would be given the honour of judging the Final Match of the Autumn Elections?

" _Our first judge comes from one of Japan's noble families, loyal to the Imperial Court, and whose family was key to the formation of the_ Kempeitai– _The military police and secret police force of the Imperial Japanese Army in the 1800s, before establishing the_ Kouguu Keisatsu Honbu _– The Imperial Guard Headquarters after WWII. She is a clan head herself, but it was through her ruthlessness, unmatched success and phenomenal skills in the JSDF, intelligence, powerful charisma, strength, with, determination and tenacity that landed her the position of the youngest commander of the_ Kouguu Keisatsu _in history and surpassing all her elders before her in the protection and security of Japan's Royal Family. Following her early retirement, she is now part of the Chief of Staff for the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force and she continues to be vital on the advisory panel_ Tougou Bakuryou-chou _– The Joint Staff"._

" _Our second judge this evening is too, from one of Japan's oldest and most noble families, steeped in rich aristocracy and artful traditions of our days of past. They serve the Imperial Court, producing every succession of '_ naidaijin' _– the personal advisor to the Emperor until 1945. By tradition, his esteemed clan is in charge of the compilation and protection of the history of Japan, ancient relics and artefacts of Japanese Royalty. He is the current Director of the Royal Museum and Armament and is the world leading expert historian of the Japanese nobility and royalty. As head of his clan, the Director of the Royal Museum and Armament is also the Current Lord Keeper of the_ Sanshu no Jingi _– The Three Sacred Treasures of Japan"._

" _Lastly but not least, our third judge is the direct and sole descendent of one of the most famed feudal lords of the Sengoku-jidai who ruled the Saikoku region of Japan known as The Western Lands. Rather than accept appointments to be a prominent member of government and society like other fellow descendants of daimyou clans, he chose to put aside his ancient nobility, to carve out his own empire not dictated by society and tradition, but, venture and leave his own mark in the world where upon he continues to shape the future of Japan into a prosperous and dominant nation for innovation and scientific advancement and became one of the most ferocious businessmen and CEO in Japan's nanotechnology industry"._

Hayato had to pick up his jaw from the ground _three_ times.

" _Please give a warm welcome for our guest judges. General Shihoun Yoruichi of the JGSDF, Professor Kuchiki Byakuya, Director of the Royal Museum and Armament, and Lord Sesshoumaru, the Last Line to The House of Moon of The Western Lands, and founder and CEO of Souryuha Tech!"_

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* * *

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"Well _damn!"._

Souma's eyes were saucers as each word that left Isshiki- _senpai's_ lips made the ground he stood on shaky. How the heck did _Tootsuki_ and the Nakiri Clan manage to get big-shots like _these people_ to participate in tasting food for _Tootsuki?!_ Shit. Maybe the ol'man Director Nakiri Senzaemon really rubbed elbows with more influential people than Souma thought. He was floored, stunned… whatever he could put a name to the immobilised state he was in. Not just other noble families, but noble families that were _that_ close to the _Imperial Family._ These people were beyond celebrity status. They were _too good_ for it. Was it possible that the Nakiri Clan could be higher up the social rank than he thought? If so, then maybe he should start taking the Nakiri Cousins a bit more seriously now.

He looked around to observe Hayam's and Kurokiba's reactions but was crestfallen to see that they hid their shock better than he did.

The first to appear from behind the curtain was a strong, powerful woman that screamed energy and spunk. She was a muscular, slender and well-endowed. She strutted the stage like she owned it. She was of a sleek nature, built upon legs which could carry only her. Physical appearance-wise, she looked nothing like an army general, way too young and way too happy. But the aura she exuded had such confidence and power, and the sharp intelligence in her bright, golden irises warned people not to underestimate her military and tactical prowess. She had thick and long, deep purple hair, tied back in a high ponytail. It swayed behind her, close to her waist and her fringe framed the sides of her face like parted curtains. Her skin was the deep ochre of chocolate, just like Nikumi. It shimmered beneath the stadium lights as she waved to the audience, a big haughty, but contagious smile on her well-defined face. For someone of noble birth and integral to the inner-workings of the JGSDF, she acted really differently from Isshiki- _senpai's_ introduction of her. She was now whooping and cheering, pumping her fists in the air as the crowed responded even more like a hype-woman hired for music events. The grin became Cheshire and her bright, golden eyes crinkled together until they looked feline and predatory, reminding Souma again that this lady-general probably a hundred and one different combat techniques to render a grown man comatose for life without breaking a sweat.

The second to appear was the complete opposite. The man was as untouchable as they came. Nakiri Erina's air of superiority had nothing on this guy. He was pure aristocracy, enough of it to make Souma choke on his magnanimous aura. Everything from the way he held his head high, back straight and his gait was pure-blood noble through and through, as if his DNA did not allow him to present himself in any other way. All movements were perfection and unwasted. Power and grace all melded into one. Souma was caught in a fight between gaping at him and looking down at his shoes. He had hooded, cold, slate-grey eyes so cool and serene to the point of apathy to everything that was going on around him. His long, sharp and severe facial features seemed carved from marble. He did not regard the audience even once and glided into his seat at the judging panel, while The General continued to cheer back at the crowd. He had long black hair that draped past his shoulders, held together by intricate white headpieces which Souma had never seen before. One part segmented into another three which were worn on top of his head, encasing three rope-like sections of hair into rows and the second was segmented into another two parts which were firmly affixed to the right-side of his head, again, encasing all of his hair in two rows on that right side. The bizarre headpieces left no other impression on Souma except maybe it was a clan-specific noble-thing that a plebeian like him would never understand. He wore a silver-grey two-piece suit. The understated, but also prominent colour was the epitome of calm that matched his indifference and unflappable expression.

Finally Souma's eyes homed in on the third figure which entered the stadium and the spectators were rendered speechless. Impossible. Someone who could take it a notch higher entered the stage like a quick and brutal slice of a lethal sword. He was _chillingly_ beautiful. Tall and austere, he strode across the stadium. His posture too spoke of great power and up-bringing. His skin looked as smooth as the mightiest alabaster marble. Long, moon-silver hair swept past his broad shoulders and draped along his trimmed back. It shone, not from the artificial lights themselves, but they emitted their own ethereal moonlit glow, making him look so refined and frankly… supernatural. His garb was equally refined. He wore a three piece suit, a smokey charcoal pinstriped ensemble, which contrasted his complexion. It was all complete with a set of sterling silver crescent moon-shaped cufflinks. Most jaw dropping of all, was a small fur pelt, pastel as the moon, that hung over his left shoulder, like a partial cape, but no less regal. Souma knew it had to be a symbol of his status as a _daimyou'_ for his Clan should the old ways return to Japan. Souma took in the hardened facial expression. The contours and angular jawline struck him as leaning towards masculine end of androgynous spectrum. The aura in the stadium was thick and clearly displayed whose magnanimous presence they breathed. Just like The General, he too possessed sharp golden-hued eyes. Unlike her feline elegance, they were harsh draconic glares that were both ice-cold and razed with heat.

' _These judges… are the three-form final bosses!'._

" _Ladies and gentlemen, the time to start cooking is almost upon us, please turn your attention to the ceiling"._

Souma blinked a couple of times, but did as Isshiki - _senpai_ instructed. A jarring noise like the groaning of old gears struggling to turn, boomed across the arena and rattled his bones. The roof was opening! Wow, even the roof of this place was tricked-out and Souma was flabbergasted. The panels slitted apart like a giant opening a sleepy eye, still heavy with slumber. Suddenly, a low clanging pulsed through the air as the panels halted partway. That was a strange place to stop. A thin black rectangle opening was just it, for an awe-inspiring commotion. It allowed a small splattering of stars to be seen. Souma tilted his head, gazing upward and eyes more open than they could be in the fullness of day, not looking at a handful of stars, but somehow seeing all of them. A tinge of dissatisfaction made him wish the panels kept opening to reveal the rest in the inky blackness. It was a gorgeous view.

" _It's almost time",_ continued Isshiki- _senpai._

No shit? What were they waiting for _now?_ Souma was itching to get cooking. He leaned to the side to expand his view of the opening's periphery. He spotted the edge of the moon just beyond the width of the narrow opening. It reflected light, not silver, but with a buttermilk glow. He could see a tiny slice of it, not even a crescent, but the hazy halo was a diffuse ocean above them, lapping at the dark beachy sands of the night sky, but not so bright as to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above.

" _Ladies and gentlemen, this is the true form of the Heaven's Moon Arena. Cooking time for the final match will last approximately three-hours. It begins the moment the full moon has completely appeared… and end when it fully crosses the skyway and is once again hidden from sight"._

' _Seriously!?'._

" _As this is a dessert battle, each contestant will receive an additional fifteen minutes to plate up their dishes before serving them to our judges"._

Souma squirmed on the spot. That sounded fucking cool! The large clock they normally used overhead was frozen in place, not to be given permission to move time as its role was taken from it. His eyes shined up as the religious-like ritual of the _Heaven's Moon_ brought a spiritual gravity and divine connection to the Finals match to Souma's heart. Coupled with the three noble heads of Elite Japan sat at the judging panel, in their own separate plane of existence, he knew that he couldn't fuck this up. The moon wasn't going to be just the cosmic timer, it would be so very present, _watching_ from the heavens… with _Kami-sama_ …as she would make her unstoppable procession through the skyway at her governed pace. Souma stopped feeling anxious and instead he was filled with a peace and calm, with the comfort of knowing that the moon would bathe her unique dim light upon him as he cooked… just like she'd done many years before. Chef Doujima's and Director Nakiri's eyes were lost in their own worlds as they too stared up at the skyway, captivated by the majestic celestial body just starting to loom over. What were they thinking about? What was going through their minds as they sat in respectful silence? Souma truly wondered. Did it bring back for them memories of the old days, battling in the final match of the Autumn Elections?

Souma suddenly had an epiphany. All the chefs who stood on this stage in the past… have looked upon this very moon. Now he was one of them.

" _Chefs! Prepare yourselves for battle!"._

Director Nakiri roared across the stadium, springing the three contestants into action.

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Souma ripped his white sash from his wrist.

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Hayama pushed his sleeves up.

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Kurokiba tautly pulled his bandana over his head.

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The moon finally revealed herself and hung like a great luminous pearl in the bosom of night. Its ephemeral light spilled into the stadium.

" _One last thing you should know"._

Isshiki- _senpai_ stepped forward again. His smile shifted… in an odd way.

" _Our guest judges_ _ **DO NOT**_ _like desserts. With that lovely thought in mind, good luck!"._

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* * *

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Erina sucked her teeth.

Well, well, well. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed Isshiki _-senpai's_ delivery at the end of his emcee duties. That wide smile was a nice touch. She supposed that even _he_ couldn't resist the temptation as he cursed the three boys with the lasting knowledge that the judges already didn't approve of their dishes before the battle even began. She smirked delightfully when she witnessed the faces of Yukihira Souma, Hayama Akira and Kurokiba paling on the television screen. For once, the camera man knew where to point the lens. She savoured the brutal shock to their system as their brain grinded to a halt, futilely processing this new snippet of information and possibly even denying it.

The Shihoun Clan.

The Kuchiki Clan.

The Last Feudal Lord to Saigoku.

' _The Three Clans of Old'_ stood only second to the imperial family and were on a different level to the Nakiri family, so it was an ultimate honour to have them here to add much more prestige to the occasion. Additionally, all three were known to having aversions to desserts in the gourmet circles. Their palates didn't include sweet things due to their traditional upbringing. Thankfully, the Nakiri family had never transgressed on the interests of _'The Clans of Old'_. _Ojii-sama's_ efforts to get them to even consider the invitation to judge were phenomenal. These three legendary figures dealt with people who were either cowards or too confident for their own good as the world continued to change. The only reason why the three clan heads agreed to judge was because of their powerful instincts and ravenous nature to test one's worth under immense pressure. One would think that figures that transcended the usual upper-class wouldn't bother with judging a competition for school children, even if it was _Tootsuki_. But they didn't see it like that. The three clan heads saw them as adults in the making. Three boys who saw themselves fit to create dishes worthy of the elite palate. Well… Yukihira, Hayama and Kurokiba were in for it now. This was the opportunity to brutally teach them the gritty side of the hospitality industry. To put those three _cocky_ boys in their place should they fall short of the mark. After all, if they ever wished to serve their food to figures belonging to the circle of _'The Three Clans of Old',_ they might as well know what they would be in for. No mercy.

Erina allowed a self-satisfied purr as she watched the contestants valiantly discipline themselves and forced their concentration back into place after the stunning and probably _unfair_ last-second revelation… that they would be serving dishes the judges _already_ didn't like.

' _Will you break under the pressure… now knowing what you know?'._

Erina leaned back and casted her eyes on the three documents on her lap.

Three recipes. Six pages each. The contestants had been required to write and submit the recipe they planned to use, the day before.

Erina languidly flicked through the stiff pages. They were spotted with coloured tabs, striped with highlighted lines and spread with extra hand-written notes as she'd gone through them during the week. Erina was meticulous in her study. She admired Hayama's succinct and concise wording in his procedures from _mise-en-place_ right down to assembly, as well as the double spacing and margin space. He truly was an outstanding student. Erina could tell that Alice had to edit Kurokiba's work before submission. Yukihira on the other hand… had appalling grammar and _kanji_ mistakes, the illiterate buffoon. It was a chore, but it proved to be quite interesting to see in depth what the chefs conjured up in their heads. The recipes were impressive enough, but the question was would the contestants be able to hold their own and still follow their own recipe, now with the sudden knowledge that the judges had been heavily biased against the theme in the first place? Or would the boys cave-in and be forced to change and adlib their complicated recipes, which they'd spent weeks creating and perfecting to bend to the judges palate?

" _We've set you all up to fail… what will you do now?"._

Her eyes blazed. Based on the complexity of the trio's recipes, it was basically three hours of _mise-en-place_ which made it incredibly difficult to change or adjust before the plating up. All elements depended on each other, tied together, _balanced_ together _._ Presentation, texture, flavours, _everything._ Any changes they made on that stadium, right here and right now could ruin it all… that was… if the contestants didn't already think that all was lost…

"Ah, did you see their faces, Nakiri-kun?".

Erina turned around and nodded to Isshiki- _senpai_ as he stepped into the private viewing box. He gently closed the door. He pulled at his shirt collar like he had been in a stuffy room as he trotted over to the window. His smile was too broad to be innocent and well meaning. Clearly, he enjoyed dropping a bombshell on the three contestants. He smoothed out the blazer over his chest and made his way to the seat by her side. Erina moved over to give him room.

"Kurokiba-kun looked like he wanted to murder me", he chuckled.

Erina smiled wryly. That was an understatement. The trio looked like they wanted to throw the seventh seater into the deepest pits of Hell.

"He could give you any look he likes. It doesn't change the fact that they still have to please all three noble houses".

"Yes. Because that's life isn't it? The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry".

"It most certainly does", Erina sighed in half-hearted agreement as she thumbed through Hayama's recipe to see where he was up to.

"This kind of stunt has Eizan-kun's moniker all over it", began Isshiki- _senpai._ "But as it turns out, it had been _your_ idea all along. To purposely invite judges who have specific dislikes and make a theme out of it and de-rail the final three like that. Tell me… what inspired you to do such an ingenious thing?".

She paused her fingers.

"Nothing in particular. _Tootsuki_ students need to excel in _all_ situations. Good, bad or unfair. This is merely a part of the challenge".

"Indeed. A challenge designed to leave them frantic and break their confidence".

"Are you criticising my decision?".

"No, no! I just thought it was interesting".

Isshiki- _senpai_ fell silent and observed the battle play out on the stadium as if they were a little competing flea circus starring Yukihira, Hayama and Kurokiba, dancing from one end of their kitchen station to the other. His grin was hardly benign. Erina knew he had more to say and the lingering heavy subtext in the air after his nosy insinuations irritated her, but she was glad at least he shut up for the time-being.

The theme was _**Australian Desserts**_ _._ This was a huge departure from the usual autumnal ingredients theme they had in the past finals. She convinced the committee to choose the lesser known island-country from the southern-hemisphere as the secondary theme to be as divergent, eclectic and challenging as possible. This would prove to be an interesting battle and the Nakiri Heiress would actually be very attentive this time to see which one of the three would triumph under impossible circumstances and be the closest to claw for her throne before she kicked them away.

Mitsunaga had told her that Ginsekai took Yukihira to see the Australian Cuisine RS to help him understand the theme and design his recipe. Erina couldn't say she had had contact with the quirky and elusive RS before but they were comprised of solely _gaijin_ third years from Australia. As it turns out, there were no Japanese people that were interested in joining the Australian Cuisine RS. Stories about their forwardness and outlandish group dynamics reached her ears, but she pegged it down to it being normal for _gaijins_ who were often the centre of attention and curiosity. Still, there was a level of unrefinement to their nature that possibly made it difficult for _Tootsuki_ students to want to work together with them.

"I haven't finished analysing Yukihira-kun's Kurokiba-kun's and Hayama-kun's recipes". Isshiki- _senpai_ started up again. "What are the pressure points?".

Erina looked down at Hayama's recipe first.

"Hayama Akira's dish is highly structural and very complex. It has over forty steps, not including the steps for assembly. It focuses a lot on presentation, and technique. It will be very beautiful to look at based on the assembly once he's done but his dish won't be like anything the judges had ever seen. There are many different elements and textures and it would be hard for the judges to identify some of the lesser known ingredients given their… avoidance for desserts. What's troubling is that his dish is so complex, therefore so many places where things could go wrong if the pressure of competition gets to him. The visuals and flavour accents for his dish is based on the natural Australian environment. The tumble of twigs, sticks and leaf litter found in the dry bush. He's given it a lot of height, which is the assembly challenge. He will arrange it almost like building a campfire and will secure the exterior elements with _**melted marshmallow**_ which is clever. For sure, he's practiced plating his dish many times over, but to be able to execute it on the day of competition with steady enough and delicately controlled hands under newly added pressure is a completely different thing. Therefore, he still shouldn't underestimate the building of the structure or the time it takes".

Isshiki- _senpai_ hummed.

"If I remember correctly, Hayama-kun's dish is part savoury and part sweet", he added. "He'll likely be in the judges' favour, but that doesn't mean he won't try to push the savouriness in some sort of panic to ensure the win. If he tries to increase the savouriness, against the sweetness, it will overthrow the balance of his whole dish, which the judges won't appreciate either".

Erina nodded.

"There's an element in his dish that's the _**cured egg yolk**_ ", she continued. "It's really important for his dish because it seems to be the centre piece of his structure and flavour profile. He plans to extract some of the runny yolk out of it and insert it with _**rum and vanilla caramel**_ in its place through a syringe. He needs to make sure it holds when going into the _cure-mix_ and when filling it up as well. If he rushes it, it could explode and he can't plate that up. He needs the whole egg yolk, otherwise his dish is a good as going into the bin".

"Right. With something delicate like egg yolk, you never know what'll happen on the day", Isshiki- _senpai_ chuckled.

"Kurokiba Ryou…" Erina slid Hayama's recipe to the bottom. "He's dish is based on the _lamington._ For his approach, he's both deconstructed _and_ reconstructed it into something new, yet familiar to the original dish. His entire recipe is also the _mise-en-place_. Not only do all the separate elements need to be perfect, he needs to get the assembly of the lamington itself right. Lamingtons are famed for their chocolately taste, sponge, cream and coconut flavours, but Kurokiba-kun had also devised an element of sharpness and tartness from the _**cherry jam**_ whichhe will include in his lamington dish. This will cut any dessert sweetness, too which he could possibly please the judge's palate enough".

"Kurokiba-kun's strengths have always been in maximising and strengthening flavours so that it really stands out and grabs the diners' attention. You can't really make a _lamington_ with complex flavours because at its heart, it's a _simple_ and _basic_ Australian dessert dish. If he makes the flavours too powerful or strong, or over-complicates it, it's no longer _lamington._ However, Kurokiba-kun's recipe and flavours for his _lamington_ looks deceptively simple, so I think he's understood the concept and values of the _lamington_ at least. So the judges might not feel so overwhelmed when they eat it", added Isshiki- _senpai._

"Speaking of overwhelming…" Erina flipped over to the last recipe "Yukihira Souma's dish is based on a popular Australian ice-cream. His dish looks easy as well, but even I'm taken aback by the level of detail for his _mise-en-place._ It's also highly structural. One pressure point for him is making sure his _**hazelnut chocolate mousse**_ is nice and light. There cannot be a single grain or lump in there, so the gelatine needs to be dissolved _completely_. It will be a very difficult _mousse._ The smaller pressure points but no less important is his _**caramel.**_ It can go from golden brown to dark brown in a matter of seconds. If he takes the caramel too far, it's just going to be bitter and lose it's the beautiful rich flavours. Then there is the _**chocolate collar tuille**_ he's going to make to encapsulate his dessert. That is a biggest pressure point too, from what he's described in the steps… it's very technical and difficult. I don't know what possessed Yukihira-kun to attempt something as technical as this. He has little to no experience in desserts!".

Isshiki- _senpai_ appeared to contemplate for a moment and then he spoke.

"You're right. The most difficult part will be shaping that _tuille_ _ **.**_ Souma-kun will need delicate fingers. To make _tuille,_ it's about finding the right moment to roll the sugar up into the perfect cylinder, that's not to hot and not too cold, otherwise it'll either melt and deform or crack and break. But if you break-down the steps, it's not too bad".

Erina didn't have anything else to add, so she slipped the recipes into her folder. She leaned back and watched. Her expression might've been one of being forced to endure an unpleasant odour, but she was actually invested in the disciplined way Yukihira, Hayama and Kurokiba was approaching their incredibly daunting task. Her gaze was unwavering and unabashed.

Her thoughts suddenly strayed to a quiet place.

' _What song would you have chosen… and what dish would YOU have made?… Mitsunaga-kun'._

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" _Yallah! Yallah! We're late!"_

The impatient and petulant whine was unmistakable. Yozora found himself tearing his eyes away from Kurokiba's form and directed them towards the stairs that emerged from the tunnel beside their section. It was already halfway into the match. As soon as the gong had gone, Kurokiba, Yukihira and Hayama had dived right in without a second of hesitation. Isshiki- _senpai's_ revelation had no room to shake up the contestants any further, or so Yozora hoped. _The show must go on._ This would make the finals round heaps harder for them because of the pressure. Imagine cooking with the knowledge that one's clients' already thought one's dish would not satisfy them. It could go both ways. It could fuel the boys to strive harder as they saw it as an additional challenge, a mere obstacle to get over to ensnare the client's palate and change their prejudice. Or they could resign to their fate, unravel beyond their control, speculating the possibility of the client's spitting out their dish. The boys may be rattled, but Isshiki- _senpai's_ announcement seemed to have actually put more fuel to their flame as they continued to hunker down and battle it out like their life was on the line.

The bouncy waves of dark chestnut hair came hurtling up the stairs. Her long arms cradled a large, brown grocery bag that bulged from the sides as she stumbled her way to the nearest empty seats, which happened to be right next to his.

"Yozora! Long-time no see, cuz".

"Hey".

The Australian Cuisine RS.

He wished it could've been longer.

Yozora sidled closer to Hayato-kun to give some extra room for Layla- _senpai._ He offered a stationary wave. Trailing behind her was Yuxuan- _senpai_ who did a much better job at manoeuvring around seated students as he caught up to her. Her make-up was spot-on as always. To Yozora, Layla- _senpai's_ makeup was like war paint. It was bold, it was defined, and it made a statement. She embraced her own brand of femininity that was so different to the East. She embraced her exotic and sultry beauty without apology. If she wanted to, she could twist men around her little finger and she also made a lot girls in the school jealous with her confidence and vivacious personality, which males seemed to low-key appreciate a lot more. Her wavy locks were tamed into a high ponytail that showed off her slender neck. A few wisps of baby-hair twirled around her ears, which were accented with golden hoops. She sat down beside him, buzzing with excitement. She patted the seat on her other side and Yuxuan- _senpai_ crashed onto it, with a mighty yawn. Yozora had noticed that his hair had grown longer since the last time they'd met and was now sort of parted to the side. He had a darker look in his eyes, that made him look more intimidating than he last remembered.

The gamer chef suddenly realised how out of touch he'd been with this crazy mob.

"If you hadn't made so many _jaffles_ , then we wouldn't have missed half of it", Yuxuan- _senpai_ taunted Layla- _senpai._

"Fuck you. You're not having any of my _jaffles_ ", Layla-san snapped.

Yuxuan- _senpai_ playfully winced at her pitchy voice. "I should've stayed in Sydney and study to become a neurosurgeon…".

"Did I hear _jaffles_?".

Hayato-kun suddenly leaned over from Yozora's other side. He was a sucker for snacks.

"Yeah. Have some, _habibi_ ".

The gorgeous Lebanese-Australian flipped the bird at her Austalian-born Chinese friend and made a dramatic show of offering her bag of warm and delicious _jaffles_ to Hayato-kun. Regularly accompanying Yukihira to the Australian Cuisine RS for tutoring sessions on their namesake had strengthened some sort of bond between the _senpai_ and the _kohai._ She stretched her whole body over Yozora's to meet Hayato-kun on the other side. Yozora was hard to startle, but in the few moments when he was such as now, he sucked in his breath, petrified, as the she invaded his personal space. With her exotic Middle-Eastern look and high cheeks bones, it was just too easy for her to fluster anyone around her. Her shoulder brushed against his chest and he caught a faceful of her soft and luscious hair. Her high-end shampoo scent and equally expensive perfume filled his senses and he did his best to lean back away without making it look too obvious and offend the volatile Australian Cuisine RS _senpai._ The tips of his ears burned like a furnace as he tried his utmost to play it cool, indifferent and nonchalant while sweat squeezed from his pores.

Was it just him, or did it suddenly got tense and quiet on his end of the stands…? He felt judging eyes on him too…

' _Damn Australians…'._

From his periphery, Yozora spotted Yuxuan- _senpai_ rolling his eyes at her and shoved a breath mint into his mouth. Yozora had an inkling for a while that those two were going out, but sometimes he dismissed it, thinking that he was looking too much into it. It was so hard to tell because they were often at each other's throat and then like the flip of a coin, they both were chummy and touchy with each other like it was nobody's throat instantly tightened as he felt the lightest touch of her voluptuous breast brush his arm as she artfully peeled back into her seat. Her floral perfume smacked him in the face against and his nose itched for a violent sneeze, but he held it together. He had half a mind to switch seats with Hayato-kun to stop his blush and general discomfort from getting out of control, but he didn't want to be rude to Kasai- _senpai's_ and Tsurugi- _senpai's_ classmates.

Hayato-kun dug into his _jaffle_ treat and licked his lips like a little child.

"Ya want some?". Layla- _senpai_ held out her oil-stained grocery bag, addressing him.

After gathering himself back together, Yozora peaked in.

He wasn't fond of _'toasted sandwiches'._

"I'll pass".

"Suit yourself, more for me", she retracted her bag and pulled out another _jaffle._

As quick as lightning, Yuxuan- _senpai_ darted forward and snatched it from her long manicured fingers, and pickpocketed another one right under her nose like a classic rogue. By the time Layla- _senpai_ realised two jaffles had disappeared, it was too late. Shereleased a harpish screech before crumpling her bag of together and hiding it between herself and Yozora, glaring daggers at the boy next to her. Yuxuan- _senpai_ smirked at and proceeded to devour the hot treat in front of her raging eyes.

"Oi! Make your own fuc—!"

" _Far out!_ Put a sock in it, Layla".

A warm and deep voice stole Yozora's attention away from the bickering pair of Australian students. Layla- _senpai_ instantly reduced to a seething, hot mess, spitting fire at Yuxuan- _senpai_ through her chocolate brown eyes. She gave him a dirty look _,_ but re-grouped and flipped her ponytail to the side as a diva would. Emerging from his right like a colossal soccer star, Andrew- _senpai_ stepped onto the level above them and sat on the empty seat on Mito-san's right side. The meat-heiress blatantly ogled the clean-shaven President of the Australian Cuisine RS. Uh-oh. Hayato-kun was going to be devastated if his long-time crush ended up head-over heels for that piece of Australian eye-candy. Andrew- _senpai_ was truly a handsome guy. A ' _bloke'_ he'd call himself. With his tousled dark-brown hair, strong and defined facial features, and bright green eyes it wasn't hard for him also to get ladies swooning at his feet. Apart from Kasai- _senpai_ and Tsurugi- _senpai,_ Yozora really admired him. He was a natural born leader. Despite his rambunctious, boisterous and… dark and crass humour… he actually listened more than he spoke when it really mattered. And when he did speak in his charming, left-footed accent and sometimes butchered Japanese, it was with the kind of even paced certainty that pulled everyone to listen. He was never quick to judge and always considered every angle first, and he was above all, kind and genuine in his ways beneath various insulting jabs. Andrew- _senpai_ spread his legs as he leaned forward and roughly gestured for Layla _-senpai_ to hand over one of her _jaffles_. She muttered something in Arabic before throwing the whole bag into his big hand.

"G'day, Yozza. Nice hair-cut. Didya get run over by a lawn-mower?".

The significantly bigger student loomed over from behind and pushed at his head roughly in some sort of barbaric rough'n'tumble masculine greeting ritual, ruffling up his already messy locks. Yozora lurched forward under the force before catching himself grabbed at his head, ready to bat away those herculean hands if it went for the second kill, but it never came. Andrew- _senpai_ chuckled at his expense. He didn't know how to respond to that, so Yozora grimaced.

 _Damn Australians and their fucked up humour…_ He hated that nick-name too…

" _Senpai"._ He returned the greeting stiffly.

Finally, the last member of the Australian Cuisine RS arrived and came over to Andrew- _senpai's_ left. Brianna- _senpai_ smoothed down the back of her skirt before sitting down and crossed her legs.

"I really hope Souma wins", she said _._ "Oh, hello Yozora! I haven't seen you in a while".

"Hi, Brianna- _senpai_ ".

Brianna- _senpai_ was the most level headed and sane member of the Australian Cuisine RS. She probably had the smartest brain out of the four, too. Brianna- _senpai_ didn't speak much but when she did, she always had something important to say. She had the kind of understated beauty perhaps because it was the warming intelligence that shone through her pale, freckled skin. Yozora doubted that she used face masks or expensive products. Brianna- _senpai_ was all about simplicity. As a classic academic chef, she got shit done with no fuss and making sure none in her Australian brood didn't get too chaotic. The only thing wild about her was her scorching and fiery red hair that was pulled into a messy bun to keep out of her face, but there were still strands of loose baby hair that refused to be tamed. Her head was like an orange sunset capturing the light in vibrant ruby hues. She took one of the _jaffles_ Andrew- _senpai_ offered to her.

"Are there anymore _jaffles?_ My friend Isami-kun would like to try some".

Hayato-kun piped up. Yozora lifted his head a bit and spotted a nervous Isami Aldini blushing from ear to ear as he twisted his hands nervously, clearly not expecting Hayato-kun to ask on his behalf. His large, doe-like brown eyes flitted from the huge Andrew- _senpai_ and down to his large hand clutching the _jaffle_ bag between his widely spread knees.

"Go for it, mate".

He passed the bag back to Hayato-kun with a wink.

"Thanks!", exclaimed Isami-kun.

Yozora watched as he bit into his first _jaffle_ and his face lit up like fireworks. Light steam escaped the crunchy toast casing, revealing a menagerie of oozing cheese, meats, red onions, garlic and other spices. Yozora twisted back to Andrew- _senpai_ and Brianna- _senpai._

"You _senpais_ weren't around for the Autumns Elections. Where've you been all this time?".

"Taking _sickies_ " said Andrew- _senpai._ "I'm not that into the Autumn Elections. Besides, Third Year is doin' my head in. So many _farkin'_ written assignments… just to be a _Tootsuki_ chef. And I need Bree to tutor my dumb-arse because I still don't understand what Professor Shiomi is goin' about in class".

"Maybe it's all those _footy_ concussions back in the day catching up to you", called out Yuxuan- _senpai_ tearing into another _jaffle_ he managed to grab.

"Yeah, _that_ and the ones from _ute-surfing_ ", added Andrew- _senpai._ "We'd rather actually skip the _comp_ to catch up with our studies so we could actually fucking graduate".

"But you're here to support Yukihira-kun, right?", Hayato-kun chirped from the side, his face smeared with toasted crumbs and cheese from the _jaffle._

"Too right. The whole gang's been whippin' the mad- _baarstard_ into shape for this match. As if we'd _bail_. I've never seen another student work like a dog, day in 'n' out like Souma. Even if Hayato hadn't introduced him to us 'n' asked us give him a hand 'n' stuff, we'd still come for the match anyway 'cause the theme is somethin' _strayan',_ just to see if any of you little _mongrels_ can pull it off. But I reckon that little _rip-pah_ will be fine". Andrew- _senpai,_ crossed his impressive arms.

"Don't let his _laid-back Aussie bloke_ persona fool you", laughed Brianna- _senpai._ "He's shitting himself on the inside".

Yozora smiled.

"What's Yukihira-kun making for his match?", he asked.

"No idea. Kept his final dish pretty quiet for a guy that's spastic. We only helped by makin' 'n' teachin' him different types of Aussie desserts for him to try, what the tips 'n' tricks are, what makes 'em fundamentally _'strayan_ , why it's popular in our country, the hipster crap that's taken the nation by storm affecting Modern 'strayan cuisine, indigenous ingredients, the history 'n' other shit. So by the end, he woulda learnt the complexities of our food. He asked us a bunch of questions 'n' we answered him as best as we could. He hadn't told us what his winning recipe is", said Andrew- _senpai._

That sounded about right. Yukihira was very self-studious when he wanted to be. Yozora could imagine that after getting all the advice he could, Yukihira would lock himself away to concentrate, cook and trial different things in his dorm-room. If it were him, he'd have the Australian Cuisine RS to taste test all of his experiments and trial recipes just to make sure that he'd understood the theme well and he could convey the evolving Australian story through his cooking. So perhaps Yukihira wanted to convey _his_ interpretation of Austalian cuisine to the judges without someone dictating what was right and wrong. Perhaps, he wanted to use his own conclusion and truth of the theme. Yozora didn't exactly know what went on in Yukihira Souma's head, but he sure hoped he knew what he was doing.

"We also want to know if our advice and tutoring did him any good and if he's learnt anything from his time with us", added Brianna- _senpai,_ polishing off her _jaffle._

Fair enough.

Yozora turned back to the front, deciding that that was enough chit chat with the Australian Cuisine President. He wasn't so much as focused on the match than the _purpose_ of the match. Deliberately choosing divine judges that didn't like desserts and then making a theme _about_ _desserts?_ What was the logic in that? Who was deranged enough to come up this? What was the committee playing at? This was unheard of in the history of the Autumn Elections. So many questions, and so many possible answers. Yozora spread his knees apart some more and rested his elbows on them. He propped his chin onto his palms as he mulled over the 'hows' and 'whys' for this bizzare finish to the Autumn Elections. His teeth gently grinded together from side to side. His eyes strayed up towards the Elite Ten viewing box on the opposite side. Nakiri and Isshiki- _senpai_ would be up there, observing and examining the trio down below in their own way, for their own Elite Ten agendas. He imagined her cold and calculating gaze as she judged every minutia of what Yukihira, Kurokiba and Hayama was doing. He tilted his head and rubbed his fingertips over his dry lips. She and Isshiki- _senpai_ were the ones taking more active roles in the organising of the Autumn Elections, they said so themselves. Was there some sort of hidden criteria the three finalists had to fulfil as well?

' _Forcing them to adlib…'_

Yozora's thoughts trundled though his brain like a train with no intention of stopping. As he watched the three boys thrash the stadium with their explosive auras and surging passion to win, he tried to step into their shoes. There was no way to tell if they were mess-up and unbalanced on the inside, barely holding it together or completely committed and confident in their recipe. That was the thing. They were vessels of pure focus and concentration. Their recipes had to be as perfect as they could make it in their vision of what _**Australian Desserts**_ was to them, and then practiced it over, and over to make sure that it could be executed perfectly on the day with as little mishaps as possible. They had to continually make their cooking more efficient and fluid until everything was done to a 'tee' for this very moment.

' _But if they want to win the judges over… they each have to change their recipe right here and right now… a recipe that's already balanced, harmonised, practiced until it was rote… Make is suitable to a different situation or different palate without changing their fundam—'_

Yozora suddenly stood up.

They had to make a _**variation**_ _._

Everything melted away as his eyes hardened like blue-diamonds and bore holes into the floor-to-ceiling glass box right in front of him, near the opened roof. He was suddenly slammed back into the past, dining with his girl at a great _sushiya_ on the quiet side of town, only a few weeks ago at the most. The glow in her expressive eyes when he regaled to her the machinations of his victory against Mima-fucker took on a whole different meaning to him now. Saliva pooled under his tongue. Yozora swallowed thickly and his tongue darted out and moistened his lips as his breathing grew harsher and his mouth parted to let the air escape and then suck back into his lungs. His fingers curled into fists, shaking with exertion, like guitar strings tuned too tightly. A euphoric tingling sensation cascaded all over his body like an aggressive _C-chromatic scale_ and it settled right behind his navel, making him slightly hunch forward in its wake. His eyes grew impossibly large as realisation upon realisation filled out all the blank spaces and he almost couldn't contain himself.

' _That hime-dere…'._

It had to be… It had to be _her_ doing. Isshiki- _senpai_ or the any other _Tootsuki_ bureaucrats wouldn't come up with this sadistic creativity without having some form of inspiration from elsewhere. Deep in the recesses of his mind, tucked in a treasure chest, he slid the key into the lock like a knife through hot butter and conjured up the memory he kept close to his heart. Upon reliving that memory, he tasted the strawberry and guava of his _**snow egg**_ upon her rose-bud lips that late afternoon. Warm and so inviting.

His smile slowly grew maniacal.

' _She really DOES listen to me after all…'._

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" _Fifteen Minutes plating time's up! Kurokiba Ryou, prepare to serve your dish!"_

It was back to the regular emcee now. He didn't have the care to learn her name. It was that exasperating chit who forced her voice obscenely high and too loud under the delusion that it would make her sound cute, when really it made her sound vapid and irritating. She pranced on the stage, doing that _moe_ crap the Japanese boys ate up. Women in _Danmark_ would never behave in such an infantile way. Ryou flared his nostrils as the strain of his muscles bunching and un-bunching slowly subsided and a cool calm slowly started to insinuate into his being, but the snapping maw of his best shredded it to pieces. He couldn't stay still for long. He craned his head up to see the moon had disappeared over their heads, only a soft glowing halo tantilising the edges of the open skyway as it sang its goodbyes.

With everything placed on the serving tray now and plumes of overflowing liquid nitrogen mist cascading over the floor, Ryou pushed his trolley over to the judging panel. Like or not like desserts, his _dish_ was going to make these stuck-up Elites _submit._

"So what've you got for us, kid?".

The General leaned over cross arms, accentuating her bust and gave him a deadly grin. Golden orbs flared with dangerous intent as she assessed his whole body, not just his dish and Ryou felt something crawl up his spine from her stare it silenced his inner beast in a way that none had ever done before. It highly unsettled him. Ryou pushed on before the judges got a hint of his hesitation or that he felt her flexing and dominating his own like it was easy as pie for her.

"This is my _**Cherry Jam Lamington**_ ", he growled.

Ryou placed a dish in front of each judge and lifted _cloches._ Wintrypuffs of the super-cool mist burst forth and coated the judging panel before disappearing slowly to reveal his dish. It didn't look like the traditional _lamington_ at all. It looked simple, but there was a lot more to it than it seemed and the calculating gazes of the three judges told him that they knew just that.

"This is my dessert version of the classic Australian Lamington. You've got the classic _**sponge**_ in there, you've got the _**coconut**_ _**cream**_ and there's the _**cherry jam**_ _and there is also the_ _ **mirror**_ _ **glaze**_ _ **chocolate**_ _ **ganache.**_ When you dig in there, right in the middle is the _**cherry jam ice-cream**_ too. Surrounding is _**liquid nitrogen coconut milk parfait shavings**_ ".

Ryou watched the judges' reactions closely and as expected, it was minimal. This lack of reaction really irked him and he fought the urge to slam his fists on the table to get some sort of attention. He was never good at speaking eloquently like Mi'lady, so his food did all the talking. His shining, square lamingtons were an exquisite jewellery box. The mirror glaze chocolate ganache was a blanket of sinful decadence over the square sponge islands of cherry jam coconut cream, completely flooded every lamington surface until it was smooth and dripping down the sides slow and luxurious like a quicksilver. Surrounding the lamington were a soft bedded halo of his coconut cream flecks, beautiful, delicate and milky white still caressed by liquid nitrogen mist. It was a solid piece of art found from any respectable contemporary art museum.

" _We shall begin"._

Ryou's head snapped up at the velvety baritone. It was the Museum Director. His gaze was cast down at his dish as if he was blatantly dismissing Ryou. _Pompous arse._ The other judges followed suit and carved their dessert spoons into the core of the lamington and pried it apart to inspect the inside. The dark-rosy _cherry jam ice-cream,_ oozed out like the milky juices of a fruit crushed in the fists of a traveller. The lamington itself held together like a soft beige marble block filled with riveting cherry jam, coconut cream and chocolatey veins. The fragrance of the cherry was perceptible and Ryou relished the slight widening eyes of The General before dainty fanged teeth revealed themselves between her twisted lips, to signify her predatory appreciation for the aesthetics.

The judges ate.

The silence ticked by at a torturous pace and their auras were so thick and strong, Ryou thought it literally displaced the air around him. Finally they placed their dessert spoons down and looked at him squarely. Nothing changed in them. _Nothing!_ A slow rumble made his hair on his arms stick up at attention and his beast, unusually silent dipped its head low, its eyes wary.

He looked over to see the last rightful Lord of the Western Land's sharp golden gaze rake over him like cold shards of sculptured icicles, stilling his blood.

"Hmmm… the sponge is really light and fluffy" began The General. "It soaks up the juices of the cherry jam and the ice-cream, so it sort of takes on those flavours too and also holds the structure. Now, the cherry jam is really powerful and punchy and it cuts through the _creaminess_ and the _sweetness_ of everything else. I quite enjoyed the sour tartness, you know? There is real bright acidity about the jam".

A crippling calm was thrust upon his shoulders and the tension squeezing his body was released in waves. His breath seethed out between gritted teeth. It wasn't until his first exhale that he realised that he felt _relief_ that one of seemed to find a bit of pleasure in it. Damn it. It was a feeling for the weak-minded.

"I do commend you for including _cherry jam_ as a new main element to your dish. It stood out. There is that sharpness which balances out the sweetness some. However…"

The Museum Director's eyes looked at Ryou with his chin slightly tilted up and heavy lashes floated closer to his sharp cheekbones, as he assessed Ryou under apathetic scrutiny.

"The _chocolate_ _ganache_ is what is supposed to set the whole dish. For myself, the chocolate needs to be more bitter". The unyielding baritone of The Museum Director struck Ryou's chest. "From the standpoint of a person who does not share the same palate as mine, this would be acceptable. However we do not represent _the masses._ So that perspective is null".

Ryou's jaw jarred in its place.

"Yes, well, I liked the chocolate ganache", The General turned to The Museum Director. "There is a hint of that wonderful dark bitterness in the mirror glaze and the ice-cream was super smooth, shiny and has a really lovely _morella flavour._ Now about the coconut parfait shavings… I really like it. It truly adds to the dish. I'm glad you didn't make it sweet. Of course the liquid nitrogen effect is amazing not just for its super-cooling properties but also for its aesthetics. I taste a generous use of coconut cream for a stronger coconut flavour".

Ryou's best still didn't feel calm enough. Only two judges spoke.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, is there anything else you'd like to add?", asked The General.

All eyes turned to the ethereally pale being seated at the centre of the panel. The air shifted and the Mad-Dog of _Tootsuki_ felt an energy clamping onto his shoulders, stealing the air from his lungs again. The head of his beast _bowed._ The Lord of the Western Land was tall, even while seated. His regal posture was the right mixture of progenitorial prowess coursing his veins which granted him such an ancient privilege.

" _Plating up is critical_ ".

It was a voice that sank in as it wrapped Ryou in a clawed, iron grip. It was a smooth deepness that vibrated with power and command. It was a voice with authority that belied a ruthlessness that shook the ground beneath Ryou's feet like a storm.

"That is where all the balance, textures and flavours come into play. If one hasn't plated the elements to perfection, even after crafting all the elements that are needed, perfect themselves, then that dish is still _worthless_ ".

Ryou swallowed the lump in his throat. Real fear. He understood… real fear.

"There can only be one at the end of this competition. We shall see if your dish has the worth of a victor in our court. _You are dismissed_ ".

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* * *

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" _Fifteen Minutes plating time's up! Hayama Akira, prepare to serve your dish!"._

He was back with a vengeance. He was not only wholly unsatisfied with his win against Mitsunaga Yozora, but also pissed at the Elections Committee for pulling the wool over their eyes. He refused to let that shake his resolve and instead focused his energy onto solving the problem and transforming his dish once more on the stage. Akira wiped his brow with the back of his hands. He was done in the nick of time. He wiped his hands on a tea towel and then brought his dishes over to the panel after it had been cleared away, quick-smart, by the runners. He placed each dish before the judges and stepped back. Akira waited for them to address him first.

"I can't say that I've never seen anything like this before", The General chuckled lowly. "Quite beautiful to look at, but I have no idea what it is. It's incredible".

Then she waved her hand for him to speak.

"I call this _**The Bush**_ ".

Akira had wanted to create a dessert that was like something one would stumble across in the Australian bush. As it turned out, 'bush' in Australia had a different meaning and significance to 'bush' found in other places of the world. The Australians had an inexplicable bond with 'the bush', their natural woodlands, shrubs and undergrowth full of its aroma of eucalypts, buzzing insects, strange birdsongs, and blazing heat which was their true essence of being Australians. Akira had pored over pictures of the Australian landscape to think of the aesthetics he would go for. He looked at tourist brochures and he was sorely unimpressed. The eucalypts were scraggy except for the noble red-gums on the river bank. It was the picture of barreness, deprivation and desolation. Even hostile. However, the more Akira looked at the photos that people took and posted on the internet, he began to see something different. The key to the beauty of the native trees was in the light which so sharply delineated them against a dark blue sky. A small seed of appreciation took root.

' _The environment shapes you…'_

* * *

Grey

Brown

Shadows

Dirt

Filth

Mud

Wet

Lonely

Desperation

Fear

Hunger

Hurting

Pain

Trash

Scraps

Beaten

Copper

Torn

Disgust

Please help

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Survivor_

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

It was enough to give birth to his recipe.

"On the outside, these ones here that look like bark is _**toasted parsnip skin**_ and _**scorched marshmallow skins.**_ The clear ones here are _**oburaato**_ and I've sandwiched it with a sugar syrup using the sugar called _trehulose_ and embedded in it are different leaves and blossoms from Professor Shiomi's greenhouse. In the heart of the dish is my _**cured egg yolk**_ which I've cured in sugar and salt, but I've actually extracted some of the runny egg yolk from the inside, then I've inserted some caramel that's got rum and vanilla in there as well. Underneath the _cured egg yolk_ is the _**coffee kombucha scoby**_ , and underneath that is a _**macadamia, parsnip and butter solids panacotta.**_ There is a little but more _**caramel**_ sitting on the inside. Finally around the edge is a _**golden syrup honeycomb**_ ".

The judges didn't speak a word, but he knew they listened keenly. His dish looked immaculate and rustic. Unrefined, but refined. Dry, but moist. Soft muted colours, but vibrant. Crunchiness on the outside playing with the creaminess on the inside. Only certain people could see the beauty in what was otherwise a pile on a plate.

"Gentlemen, let's do this", said The General.

The three clan heads took up their knives and spoons and razed his dessert. They expertly pulled away the scorched marshmallow skin, parsnip bark which held everything up, and revealed a shining orange-yellow jewel comfortable nestled amongst the thick _honeycomb_ shards. They all cut into the yolk. The dual toned insides oozed out into a fast flowing stream down the sides, coating everything in its path. They ate.

Similar to Kurokiba, timed marched slowly until they decided that they had enough.

"The dish appeared either sweet or savoury from first assessment", began The Museum Director. "However this dessert is not overly sweet. The two opposing palates balance together. The texture is interesting".

Akira allowed himself a small smirk.

"I do admire the colours and the overall strong presentation", said The General. "The parsnip bark is beautiful, golden brown, really crispy and crunchy. The dark char on the marshmallow skin gives it a more smokey flavour too. It reminds me of the tumble of leaves and bark when I used to do joint-army training in Australia. The _oburaato_ sheets with the little leaves and flowers in them are transparent, thin crisp and fantastically colourful and vibrant. It's like a stain-glass window of the leaves and flowers you'd find littering the bush".

 _Oburaato_ was an edible rice paper that was extremely thin and fine which were often used to wrap _wagashi._ Akira reminisced how he came upon the idea of preserving the natural flora of Jun's greenhouse as a substituted of the Australian ones.

"My Lord?" she turned to the last judge.

" _The yolk was a liability"._

Akira shuddered. Until he realised that he was being spoken to, he snapped to attention as keen gold eyes pinned him where he stood. He didn't think being spoken to by the Last Lord of the Western Lands would be this fear-inducing.

"It held its form and there were no leakages, however the skin of the yolk was tenuously held together and yet you still endeavoured to pump caramel into it. Foolhardy and risky. You dared to serve something that could have destroyed your dish, _to us_. It was _not_ strategic".

Akira felt like he got slashed across the face and was almost compelled to check if there was blood spilling from his skin. Maybe he was hit, but it wasn't by anyone's hand, but by the force of the displeased growl from deep inside the tall and pale Lord. Akira began to sweat as his mind raced through the past week. He'd deliberated with Jun tirelessly on whether he could pull this element off perfectly on this very day because of the numerous fails during his practice. Whether he even _should!_ Just for one fucking egg yolk. It exploded in his hands many times when he practiced extracting and inserting the two viscous liquids into it. It frustrated him as much as motivated him to keep trying. The key was, he needed to make sure the whole egg yolk was covered in the cure-mix properly; it was a crucial part to the recipe and he had to make sure he'd got it right, because if he hadn't… then he would've had to scrap the whole recipe. The Bengali chef furrowed his brows, not liking there this was going.

"But as you can see, kid. Your egg yolks didn't burst until it was pricked with a knife. It tasted quite nice with the caramel spilled out onto everything else. It made it kind of special. Now. I enjoyed the honeycomb. It provided little pops of sweetness in the dish throughout the dish which was important to balance out the savouriness… hm… what else. The flavour of the _pannacotta_ and caramel was _superb_ as sweetness goes, and it was smooth".

With one slight tilt of The Muesuem Director's head, the runners scampered on stage and cleared the plates away. That was it? They were done? Akira looked around a bit bewildered as he was dismissed by the panel without so much as a word. He gritted his teeth, turned on his heels and marched away. His mood soured upon seeing the face of Yukihira ogling the three clan heads without a minutia of fear, but rather pathetic childish curiosity. If himself and Kurokiba received harsh criticisms that left them disturbed and shaking, then the second-rate Yukihira was going to be bludgeoned to death.

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* * *

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" _Fifteen Minutes plating time's up! Yukihira Souma, prepare to serve your dish!"._

Souma was absolutely electrified. This was so cool! This was so cool! This was so cool! He'd bet that _Oyaji_ would've never meet the likes of these three clan heads in his life and he was the one that got to serve them his dessert. Never mind that the judges didn't like it, but he was going to change their minds with his cooking. He'd spent ages with the Aussie Cuisine RS and from what he'd learnt, they were the most chill, laidback and unpretentious lot in _Tootsuki._ They really didn't care about elitism and just went about doing their own things. So Souma chose to based his dessert on the most unpretentious thing he thought of that was Australian _and_ transformed it into something that was _Tootsuki's_ level. On second thoughts… he'd hoped that it could still edge its way into second-to-Royal Family level now.

The red-head steeled his nerves and approached the panel with his dishes. Brrr… it was like being in an artic breeze there. Those two sets of cold eyes from the two men could be felt for miles away, but the The General was all taunting and teasing, but a savagery was present in the way she smirked at him.

"So uh… Hi, this is my dessert"

Their eyes snapped to him like aggressive search lights.

' _Uh… Was I not supposed to speak first?'_

A pregnant pause pulled time to a stop. Finally they slowly released him from their gripping stares and looked to their plate, as if he wasn't there. There were slow blinks as the scrutinised his dish from all angles without moving their heads, but only their sharp eyes. The quietness in the stadium was deafening to the point that he could only hear his own heart beating.

"And?", said The General "You're not going to leave _us_ hanging are you?".

"Oh! I call this _**The Posh Golden Gaytime**_ _"_.

The collective gasp in the audience made him winced. Okay, maybe that wasn't a good choice of name but he had no time to think of a new one! He worried that calling it _'posh'_ might be taking an immature jab at their elite status too much. It looked like insinuating that it was 'posh' wasn't good enough for the clan heads.

"Oh. As in the Australian ice-cream _The Golden Gaytime?_ ", said The General, quirking her brows and expanding her smirk.

"Yes, ma'am. My dish is a play on a childhood classic ice-cream on a stick that was introduced in the 1950s".

He was surprised she'd heard of it. When Souma first tried _The Golden Gaytime,_ he swooned. King- _senpai_ received a care-package from his family once a month and it was filled with all sorts of Aussie snacks. The President of the Aussie Cuisine RS was kind enough to share it with him, to help him on his quest to devise the perfect _Australian_ dessert. One of them was a box of the chocolate, hazelnut, confection-on-a-stick with the funny name, which was lovingly sealed in a special insulating box to keep it perfectly frozen on its nine-hour journey from Melbourne to Tokyo. Fletcher- _senpai_ had went on to explain how the magic-combo ice-cream became an Australian icon.

The General blinked at him. He guessed that was his queue to keep explaining. His dish was hazelnut, salted caramel and the hazelnut chocolate mousse embellished the ice-cream layers hidden inside a wafer-thin caramel chocolate biscuit collar that cracked open easily with the tae of a spoon to reveal its hidden centre.

"When you crack into the _Posh Golden Gaytime_ , there are two different types of ice-cream which are the _**caramel ice-cream**_ and _**honeycomb ice-cream**_ with little chocolate balls, there bits of _**honeycomb**_ and a _**hazelnut caramel sauce**_. Around the outside is the _**chocolate collar wafers**_ keeping it all together. On top of the whole thing is a _quenelle_ of the _**hazelnut chocolate mousse**_ and some _**candied nuts**_ on top _ **.**_ At the bottom here is a _**nougat honeycomb dust…**_ which I call _**Golden Gay Dust.**_ So the _honeycomb ice cream_ goes on the base, on top of the _Golden Gay Dust_ , then the _caramel ice-cream._ I stuck it on top with the chocolate balls in between for the chocolate crunch and—".

" _Silence"._

Souma's mouth clamped shut. The single word left the soft lips of The Western Lord as it split the air and struck him like a thunder still in the clouds. Soft, but ominous and commanding. The three clan heads didn't even look at him before they began to eat. He watched in stunned silence as the judges cleaved his dessert apart with their dessert spoons. How was it humanly possible that they could eat so neatly and cleanly? It was a surreal view. They picked at different pieces, but like utter professionals, they tried every single element just like they did with Hayama and Kurokiba. Souma waited with bated breath.

He watched The General lick her teeth before parting her lips to speak first.

"When I look down the panel, I see tall little soldiers. That bulge of the _mousse_ poking out like little head. Your dish looks very easy and simple, but actually it's very complex and the secret is what's hidden behind that biscuit", she said smoothly. "Overall the dish tastes nice, delicious probably for others who have a sweet tooth. There are a lot of powerful and strong caramel flavours, and little kicks of salt here and there which I like. You've made an effort to brown your caramel a bit more to get that hint of bitter accent which brings another dimension to your dish".

Souma thought he felt okay. He'd never made ice-cream, caramel sauce or honeycomb before practicing for the competition. _Yukihira diner_ wasn't a dessert bar nor did it sell fancy desserts, so he'd never deign to think he'd want to cook down that road of desserts. He was glad that he didn't fuck it up for The General at least.

She continued "There are layers of textures of caramels, then there are the loosely _candied nuts_ and chocolate ball crunch, which gives me something to concentrate on and that was _not_ the sweetness of the dish.

"Your dish is very detailed and its flavours are consistent". The Museum Director's voice caressed the air. "The _tuille_ is thin and delicate and not a thick biscuit. It makes your dish delicate and aesthetically pleasing. The uniformed pinched end of the coil in each serving gives it a sophisticated architecture and style as well".

Souma knew that the _chocolate collar wafers_ looked dead-easy but actually, it had a lot of technical skill he had to learn involved and the processes to get it that fine, wafer stage. Fortunately for him, Yuujou- _senpai_ was available for only one day to teach and train him in creating _tuille_ in the Aussie Cuisine RS Clubroom _._ He trained until the tips of his fingers went numb and until the large and beastly third-year gamer-chef- _senpai_ deemed the biscuit was impeccably fine, crunchy, crispy and delicious.

"Hm. I think technique-wise, you've done a fine job. The texture of the ice-cream is very smooth and light. It's got that absolute attention to detail". The General grinned. "My lord?".

Souma turned to look at the one judge that hadn't spoken except to cut him off on his rambling description of his dish. Patience was obviously not one of his virtues and it made Souma all the more a bit tense and frightened of the imposing lord with his ruthless aristocratic aura and silverly fur pelt. He dressed in the attire of his class, an aristocrat. His beautiful face bore the expression of one comfortable with being superior who inherited his lordship, land and servants even in this modern age.

"Your competition is now over. Explain what you will do henceforth".

There was a lift in the air as the conclusion finally came. Souma was normally good at thinking on the spot, this whole day had been turned on its head and he didn't know if he had enough left over juices in his brain to answer that loaded question. He scratched the back of head, underneath the sash. If his thoughts were visible, they would be an inverse explosion; crazy chaotic turns and twists of light all coming together to just one idea. They spun in a way that appeared discombobulated and illogical, but they always danced their way back to his focus and resolve.

"This has been a great learning experience". Souma cleared his rapidly drying throat. "I wanna be worthy enough to inherit my family diner. I got here by my cooking, battling, research and learning with so many other really talented and skilled chefs and I wanna do more of that. I can see my skills have develop, my knowledge has developed but… it's still not where I want it to be".

A rumble emitted from The Lord which Souma felt more than heard. Souma refused to wilt under The Lord's molten gold gaze. It wasn't just the apathy for the whole affair emitting from those depths that made him anxious, it was the intelligence behind them. The Lord that also managed his estates _and_ built a nanotech company from the ground up that would lead Japan into the future. In the gap between their eyes, a challenge was slapped down and Souma met it without a flinch.

" _Leave us"._

Souma didn't need to be told twice.

He relieved himself of the lapel microphone and joined Hayama and Kurokiba on the sidelines. He waited to hear what those three nobles had to say.

" _A decision has been reached!"_ screeched the emcee.

Suddenly, The General stood up. She clasped her hands behind her back. Just like the military commander she was.

"Well done all of you. This was a battle of idea and ideals worthy of your finals. All three chefs presented unique and strongly individual dishes. Regardless of the judge's preferences, we were looking for the dish that brought to mind the _soul_ of the chef. The chef fit to stand above all others is the one who has pursued his own cooking to the greatest degree. He is the one who has truly looked deep within his heart and asked _'What is cooking to me?'… tonight that chef's name is –_ ".

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 **" _Hayama Akira!"_**

 _._

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* * *

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Erina didn't move from her window. Night descended fast. Under a sky of perfect midnight velvet, under stars so brilliant they drew the eyes of the flood of students milling endlessly in the courtyard, heaven bound.

As the light twinkled and the unheard music played _his_ steps fell slightly over the plush carpet.

"Ah, so this is where you ran off to".

Erina turned her head slightly in his direction. His messy head of dark hair bobbed from side to side as he took a gander at her Elite Ten Office. Now that she thought about it, Mitsunaga had never been in her office before. It looked like any other office in _Tootsuki_ but classier. His eyes roved over every surface, taking it all in. He even stopped to run his fingers over the items like her books, settee, and ornaments, as if he found them fascinating and wanted to commit them all to memory. He still carried his silver headphones around his neck, despite being banned from using it for the time being. Actually, how did he know she would be here?

"Who let you in the building?".

"Isshiki- _senpai_ ".

"Isshiki- _senpai?_ Since when did Isshiki- _senpai_ do things for you like that?", muttered Erina.

Yozora smirked.

Erina rolled her eyes. This building was for Elite Ten members only and no exceptions. Stupid _senpai_ for breaking rules like that. She turned back towards the window and felt his presence step up next to her, looking out the window too. The conclusion of the match left the whole school in a frantic tizzy as excitement ran rampant. The cheers had got too deafening and Erina left the scene to seek her own solitary peace. Her Elite Ten Office. She stayed for the medal ceremony though, that was the least she could do, but when she quickly exited and didn't look back. Of course, Hayama deserved the win, but from what she'd learnt over her years in _Tootsuki_ was that unless one was a member of the Elite Ten, nobody wins for long.

"Beautiful night, huh?", said Mitsunga.

Erina nodded.

"Do you see any of our classmates down there?".

"Yes. Just Alice and Kurokiba-kun, and the students from Polar Star. Talking, rough-housing, and recounting the day like everyone else I suppose. A bunch of them are singing and dancing".

He leaned in and kissed her on top of her head. Erina bristled, but didn't move away. Suddenly fiery sparks whipped into the sky, bursting through the night, brilliant inks of light on a canvas of stars. Fireworks to end the night was Isshiki- _senpai's_ idea. The sea of students below jumped up and down and cheered as they revelled in the chaos and predictability of the explosive gifts from the Autumn Elections committee. Erina looked down and spotted the heads of Alice and Kurokiba-kun amongst the throng of students. Alice waved and clapped while Kurokiba-kun stared blandly at the kaleidoscope of colours. She looked further, and then she could see Yukihira, Ginsekai, The Aldini brothers, Mito and the rest of Polar Star Dorm clumped together as they also whooped and cheered, celebrating the end of their second milestones at _Tootsuki_ high-school students.

Mitsunaga turned to face his back against the window. He slid down onto the floor, resting his back against the wall below the window sill, effectively out of view of the fireworks.

"Don't you want to watch the fireworks?", asked Erina, perplexed.

"Nah. You can watch the after party for me", he responded.

Erina furrowed her brows. If he was comfortable to sit on the carpet under the window, then fine. She had enough of questioning his oddities. She turned her violet gaze towards the bursts of shining colours. There was something about fireworks that warmed her, even if she was out in the Autumn night air. As if their sparks passed into her blood. An especially _blue_ one exploded high in the sky showering its sparks in sapphire rain.

"You still mad at me?", asked Mitsunaga.

"For what?".

"Umm… the closet".

Erina stuttered on her breath. She refused to squirm next to him as the memory of their embarrassing encounter replayed relentlessly in her mind. Yes! She'd been so mad at him for so long. Acrimonious! She'd refused to speak to him after she'd left his apartment cloaked in shame! The feelings of his heavy frame pressed against places she dared not touch herself, his warm breath licking at the skin of her throat and his hair caressing her face spun her mind into a heady mix of tumultuous yearning for something physical she didn't understand. Even now, her heart picked up the pace as her skin prickled at the memory. She could tell that he hadn't showered. The heavy musk of his warm body and the dying notes of citrus and lemons threatened to unravel her mind and turn her into a bumbling simpleton She hadn't felt scared, just strange all over. Then she remembered the leering and mischievous eyes of his third-year _senpai_ catching them red-handed in the tight and intimate confines between his firm arms in the _futon_ closet. If it had been anyone else like Ginsekai or Yukihira then she would've clobbered them, lady-like behaviour be damned. But it had been Mitsunagan's _senpai_ … that was completely different.

"I-I don't want to talk about it".

"Fair enough".

Even when she had a million and one things to do before leaving the office and calling it a night, thoughts of Mitsunaga swirled within her. Wasn't it funny that if she had made a different decision, she wouldn't be here right now? If she had given him a different answer… her fate wouldn't been written down in different ink. Because if she just stood here… in a completely different universe, without this doggedly ridiculous but enigmatic gamer-chef by herself, then she wouldn't ever feel complete. Mitsunaga _completed_ her.

"You're more open minded than I thought", he said.

"Excuse me?" Erina leaned back and looked down to her side.

He sat there with both his knees propped up, wide apart. His long arms rested on each knee as he looked resolutely forward.

" _ **Variation"**_. He tilted his head up at her. "You used the idea of making a _variation_ of a dish just like how a composer creates _variations_ of a composition to suit different things. In this case, forcing the boys to vary their set recipe to suit a different palate. You forced Yukhira, Hayama and Kurokiba to think about the textures, flavours, balance, presentation… to _change aspects of their story…_ for the judges right then and there. I told you all about _variation_ on our date… and you _listened_ ".

Erina blushed under his intense gaze.

"I wasn't thinking of you specifically. It just came to me when deciding on how to make this year's finals differ— _Hey!"._

Erina's left leg was suddenly jerked to the side and she found herself catching the window sill. Her heart thudded at triple speed. She couldn't take this constant change in heart rate all the time! Mitsunaga had delftly hooked one arm around her closest leg and pulled it to him. Erina tightened her fingers on the piece of wood to keep balance. Her knee thumped against his chest. She gasped as she felt something moist and warm press against her skin.

 _He kissed her thigh._

A furious blush claimed her face. She had every intention of kicking him away, but then he continued to press butterfly kisses on the heated skin above her thigh-high sock, causing her to halt and be blasted by these incredibly new sensations. Her yell died into a heated gasp. His ticklish hair against her sensitive skin almost drove her mad! She could see that Mitsunaga's eyes hooded over as he pressed yet another indecent kiss even _higher_ up her thigh without regard for her propriety. Erina was spellbound as she watched him commit one indecent act after another as if it was no-one's business but his own. His was _far_ from smiling, only the hot intensity of his gaze and his equally hot lips transfixed with the saliva he laved onto her skin. _Kami-sama…_ His fingers massaged and pawed at her supple flesh in the same pulsing rhythm as his hard-working mouth. Her skin tingled and scorched from under his lips. She felt stuck, as his knees started closing in around her leg. She could try to yank her limb back and move away, but he had a firm hold of the back her thigh, and an even firmer hold on her ankle with his other hand.

 _No… she didn't want to pull away from him._

"W-What are you doing?" she gasped breathlessly.

His fingers trailed, pulling her leg closer to his hungry mouth. His hands were everywhere. It blazed hot under each contact from the back of her knees… up her thighs… _under her skirt._

"Which one's singing?"

"H-Huh?".

She flinched and clenched her eyes shut as her skirt started ruffling. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Something strong hot pooled in her lower belly and she found herself inexplicably captive in Mitsunaga's embrace. No, she didn't want him to stop. It felt too magical, too tantilasing. The way his lips and tongue massaged higher and higher caused her heat to pulse and her breath grew ragged. The room was sweltering now. She swore she could splinter the wood from how tight she held on. The feelings he enthralled her with rocked her heads backwards as his teeth crazed her flesh and pushed her thigh into his chest.

"W-Wait a m—"

"I'll do the work. You look out the window and tell me what you see". He murmured against her.

' _What?! What work?!'._

Erina melted. Her frantic heart turned into a slave to Mitsunaga as he continued to work his lips around to her outer thigh, the fabric of her skirt rumpled over his head. She was close to panting and egging him on, but her pedigree burned into her DNA wouldn't allow her to stoop that low.

"I-I see… nghh… It's Y-Yoshino. She's the one singing the l-loudest".

"And Yukihira?".

"H-He's there too but… ahhhh… He's just— Mitsunaga-kun, wouldn't it be easier for you just t-to see for yourself?".

 _No. No. No. No. Don't stop. Don't tell him to stop._

"What else? What do you see". He ignored her.

Erina forced her eyes to open. Too hot and sweating.

"It's A-Alice… she's turning this way, l-looking towards the window. Mitsunaga-kun, she's going to catch us!".

 _He bit her._

He licked at the sting. Erina groaned aloud and then clapped her hand over her mouth, shocked that she could make such a sound!

"Not me, she won't. Wave hello".

Erina took all her strength to release her nails embedded in the window sill. She bit her lips to stop herself from crying out. How could his tongue—. She waved weakly, doing her best to appear nonchalant under… _impossible circumstances._ Alice was cupping her hands over her mouth and shouting something at her but for the life of Erina, she didn't have the mental capacity anymore to decipher it. His fingers… his fingers… his lips… so close… too close… _not close enough._

She could collapse. She could collapse right now and Mitsunaga would catch her.

He teased her ever so gently.

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* * *

 **And sceeeeennnne.**

 **My, my. I've started to get a bigger influx of reviews this month! Is it safe to say that you readers are on college/university/high school break and your exams are done? :D**

 **The Moon is very significant in Japanese culture and religion. It heavily influences their way of life like architecture, gardens, community activities, food and farming. It's not a random idea to include things to do with the moon in anime and manga. The moon continues to be a motif in Food Wars! Which I like** **and I just felt so compelled to get deep into describing the moon and the feelings it brought out in Souma to reflect that connection haha.**

 **Alot of Australian humour goes right over people's heads if they're unfamiliar or unaccustomed to it, including Yozora. He's not a fan of the Aussie humour haha. Australian's will take a piss at each other or make fun of each other as a sign of tight friendship. Yozora becomes much more reserved in front of the Aussie Cuisine RS because he doesn't really know how to respond or interact with them sometimes, humour or no humour involved. Hayato seems fine with it.**

 **Once again I couldn't resist bampfing in some special guest judges to tweak the Autumn Elections even further haha.**

 **So, Hayama is the winner just like in the manga! Probably not a surprise… but hey… We can't have the surprises without having the predictable, otherwise what is the value in surprises then? ;) When everything is a surprise, nothing will be.**

 **Mitsunaga… didn't do it... Or** _ **did**_ **he…? kekekeke. It's up to you readers to decide what went on in there… below the window... out of sight...**

 **Until next time, please let me know what you think!**

 **Signing-off**

 **TripWire-dono**


	23. Author's Note

Dear Guest reviewer

Thank you for taking the time to read and review my story. There are a few concerns I'd like to address. As a fanfiction author, there are things I want to say to you and answer your questions, which I understand may be rhetoric, but I should answer nonetheless. Unfortunately, you reviewed as a Guest so I can't PM you my responses, so I'll just leave it public:

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 **Chapter 16: Guest reviewer: Okay so question how THE FUCK is that a fair bet ? oh for some knives is equal to that? There fucking knives... I don't care how sentimental they are theyre just knives. Connections are 10000000000 times worth that of knives so I really don't understand how you can say thats a fair bet**

My Answer:

This is in reference to Yozora exchanging The Guild and the NPC Network for 99 chef knives to be returned to their rightful owners. What constitutes a 'fair' bet is purely subjective because 'fairness' is an arbitrary idea and is relative to the person or the collective. What is fair to one person isn't always fair to the other. What we perceive as a 'fair' bet is all relative and entirely depends on monetary value, cultural significance, emotional value/attachment, rarity and effect of the stakes. The thing you need to understand is that every person places different values onto different things for a bet. One person's trash is another person's treasure.

Yozora thinks 99 NPCs equates to 99 knives and the way to understand that is you must first understand what it is that Yozora and Mimasaka values in the bet to be considered as 'fair enough' for both of them. Yozora is a selfless character; he is kind, TOO kind as Kasai- _senpai_ pointed out to Erina in the earlier chapters. His kindness is a fault because he will try to do everything he can to make sure he rights wrongs, and essentially solves everyone's problems at the cost of himself and The Guild (which is selfish…). The 99 knives are not only sentimental, but they are symbolic of unresolved wrongdoings that need to be fixed and he projects his own sense of personal morals onto those 99 knives, and therefore he places more personal value onto them, which obviously nobody else except Hayato seems to sort of understand. So he values those 99 knives more than what ordinary students should or perceive. The NPC Network also has an Exodus Clause on the quest dockets which allows all NPCs to leave the network if the collective chooses to, which was talked about in the chapter. This DEVALUES the NPC Network as this trapdoor can nullify their use and make them of less valuable over all. Furthermore, Yozora ALSO takes into account the 'labour cost' of Mimasaka getting 99 knives in the first place (Yozora runs an RS now so he understands some level of business). It's not JUST the knives that are put on stake, but it's all the direct and non-direct work, time, and effort that Mimasaka took to get it that is added to the cost. All of that adds to the value of the knives (on top of the sentimental value and Yozora's personal values).

Of course you don't see the value or the fairness in the bet because you've never had to experience something like this before and this doesn't affect you or isn't relevant to you and your life, therefore it doesn't necessarily make sense to you. Like you said in your review: "I don't care how sentimental they are". But the story is not about YOU or what YOU care about. To really get something out of this story, you need to empathise and think in the characters perspective and understand where they are coming from, what they are feeling, what upsets them, what drives them, why are they the way they are. All the answers are there in my story, you just need to read deep enough and be open-minded enough to see it. THEN you can begin to understand the nuances in different character's natures, and even as something as simple and small like… Why Yozora is very willing to put up those stakes at the expense of others for a bet that is SEEMINGLY uneven.

Empathy is the key to getting the most out of reading stories.

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 **Chapter 19: Guest Reviewer: Um what that other guy did is called assault and that is a thing. He CANNOT do that and not only is their a witness but there should be cameras. Even if the guy is an elite you he cant just go assaulting people... then he prob did that this with the music and thats an attempted to ruin someones hearing. If he comes out of this and nothing is done to him im sorry but I can see why people have dropped this. Its a great story and I love it just some parts don't make sense as you make it out like the elite can do whatever they want. They can't. The law is a thing you know.**

 **Chapter 20: Guest Reviewer:** **Ngl youve really disappointed me with this chapter and near ending of the story one of there students was ATTACKED NOT ONECE BUT TWICE what kinda of SHIT school allows not only there student to be beat up before an important event but then gets attacked during the event? Im utterly disappointed with not only the author but this story. Many always make it out like the elite 10 are some sort of gods but no the world is just focused more on food there is still rules that have to be followed laws that cannot be broken. To have a student attacked constantly is a discusting**

My Answer: First of all, I hope you don't think that me as a person writing about assault means that I condone such acts, because I don't. I also hope that you know how to separate the 'author' from the 'work'.

Yes, I understand that assault is a 'thing' that happens, and assault is a 'thing' that happens anywhere and at any time, regardless of anything. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but assaulting people and getting away with it is a 'thing' that happens in real life (the undocumented assaults). It's a sad and terrible truth, but it's the reality of the world we live in. Food Wars! doesn't get special treatment from me just because it's fictional.

Welcome to the real world.

I have to admit; I had a good chuckle when you said "Even if the guy is elite, he can't just go assaulting people… you make it out like the elite can do whatever they want. They can't. The law is a thing you know", but guess what? That is a reality and it happens all the time… 'you know'? And it can happen anywhere given the right conditions. Money makes the world go 'round and in SOME places, money is more powerful than law and the law will bend for money. You just need to look in the right places, interact with the right people to see it happen, because it is disgustingly more common than you think and it can happen right under your nose… and those places include PRIVATE SCHOOLS. There are so many cases world-wide of rich, affluent and socially elite people (and children like Eizan) abusing their power, going around hurting people without care for the consequences, doing whatever the heck they want. They are able to do this because their money and status (and parents) protect them pretty well in most cases. Thus the vicious cycle keeps going. In those cases these people with power and elitism DO BELIEVE they can go around assaulting people because they think they have a right due to their status and power and because things like inaction, bribery and corruption allows this to happen and feed their thinking that they CAN do this.

You saying that I 'make it out like the elite can do whatever they want', sounds as if you think I condone these behaviours too, which I don't. In YOUR world or the place you live in, they probably don't get away with things and law enforcement is prompt, but in OTHER people's side of the world, it is a reality and it is a reality that can last months, years and generations. This is simply one observation, one facet, out of many from my time studying people in my spare time…. especially cultures that run deep and ingrained for many centuries with little change.

Another thing you need to understand is just because the world is supposed to work a certain way, that doesn't mean it does. The universe doesn't treat you better just because you are a good person… and it is possible that people like Eizan can get away with terrible things with little to no consequences . So yes, all laws SHOULD NOT be broken, but there are sick people out there who just don't give a fuck, don't care and break them anyway. Eizan is one of them. If laws 'cannot' be broken like you say, and everyone thinks the same way you do, then why do we need law-enforcement to make sure we're all law abiding citizens? And why isn't law-enforcement and justice is always on time, fair and ready to put away the bad guys?

Whether there are cameras or witnesses while Eizan shoves Yozora against the wall, or whether Erina reports it, it all comes down to the school's decision which is out of the student's hands, as disheartening as it is (unless Yozora press charges, but he isn't that type of person to do that, and if Erina insists she does it on his behalf, he would tell her not to because he believes he can get back at Eizan on his own). In all likelihood, Eizan is going to get a slap on the wrist for that because he is a valuable asset to Tootsuki his entrepreneurship and money-making skills for the school outweigh a suspension. The incident will be watered down to 'roughing up' another student. Tootsuki is expected to 'look after' Eizan and not give two-shits about Yozora. Yozora is JUST a student out of hundreds.

This brings me to another thing you need to understand which is Private school culture and Eastern vs. Western school culture.

What kind of shit school allows bullying to happen, you ask? The shit ones. Private schools are known to be a hot-bed of unfair treatment in all forms because of the emphasis on wealth, status and pedigree. Good and genuinely supportive private schools are around, but it's the shit private schools I'm going to talk about. Tootsuki is a private school and at an institutional level, it is a shit one. I've typed shit too many times now. Honestly, we see that in public schools too where their 'jock culture' or 'my daddy is on the school board', 'my family is the biggest donor for the school' type culture breeds bullying and rarely the perpetrators of assault (sexual or otherwise) who are from this class of people are brought to justice in due course because the school tries to protect them out of their own interests. Therefore students who don't have power have their voices silenced.

I'm sure you've heard a lot about schools where bullying gets reported, but the schools do nothing about it and of course, there is bullying and assault that goes unreported due to the victim's fears or sense of hopelessness.

Now let's look at Eastern schools (like Japan). You have to understand that in Eastern culture, 'saving face' is a very VERY important part of the society and keeping up in appearances in all social classes is important for survival in the modern world in Asia, where competition is the make or break for success. Saving face is the idea of avoiding humiliation or embarrassment, to maintain dignity or preserve reputation which is sooooo common in Asian culture. Societies like Japan are a homogenous society and everyone is expected to conform, not stand out too much and do everything that's expected of them. There is a saying in Japan: "The nail that sticks up the most gets hammered down" and this is a socially acceptable proverb. So bullying in Japanese schools are WHOLE different ball game compared to Western schools and the teachers are often in on it because of the strong sense of hierarchy between teachers and students. If Yozora reports the assault perpetrated by one of their precious Elite 10 or voices his concerns IN A PRIVATE SCHOOL ENVIRONMENT IN JAPAN, that will be seen as "you are causing a ruckus, you are making a bigger deal than it is, you are causing a scene", and even try to make it out that it was HIS fault – victim-blaming is not uncommon in Japanese schools. The school will try to silence that, rather than address it properly or take the victim's side. Of course the school taking Eizan's side and exalting everything he does and sweeping his faults under the carpet contributes to the cultural norm of 'saving face' in Asia. If the person you had chosen to accept onto your school prefect council does something that goes against the school's values how does that reflect on you? It makes it look like you are inept and unreliable at choosing the 'right' people, so the school will do ANYTHING to save face and make it out that Eizan wasn't in the wrong so as to be seen that they AND Eizan can do no wrong. Shit-Private school mentality.

Good-school mentality is that they suspend or expel his arse and notify the parents and if police need to be involved, they will get police.

I think Erina knows that Tootsuki won't 'actually' do anything about it, even if she witnessed it or there are cameras around and reported it, which is why she doesn't bother reporting Eizan (this highlights further the sad reality – people don't bother reporting because they believe it won't make a difference). Being a Director's grand-daughter isn't all that's cracked up to be in my story… and readers will see the difference between an 'heiress' and an 'heir' in Japan in my story. If Erina was the grand-SON of the director, it would probably be different, because there is still gender inequality in Japan that is more obvious than in Western culture. Private schools in Asia like Tootsuki are very good at keeping up a façade, and if there is anything happening in the school that is less than perfect or may cause a stain on their reputation (like students assaulting each other), best bet, they will try to cover that up as much as possible, even willing to sweep it under the rug, pay hush money to the victim, or threaten to expel, threaten to ruin their future prospects of the victims if they bring it to the authorities or media etc, whilst protecting people like Eizan.

Japanese schools have one of the highest statistics of students committing suicide because of bullying and because of schools not doing anything to help them.

Eizan shoving Yozora against the wall by the neck, assaulting him in plain sight, is only but a small fraction of the big whole I've just talked about. It's a terrible thing and it's disgusting.

You mentioned about Eizan attempting to ruin Yozora's hearing and that he should be punished for it. Let me point out that this is an ACCUSATION made by The Guild. They have no hard evidence to say that it's Eizan's doing. It's all circumstantial and speculation, they all THINK it's him. I'm writing in the perspective of a bunch of teenagers, of course they are going to make accusations right-left-and-centre as if it's the gospel truth. They need someone to blame. It's your job as the reader to go "hang on a minute", see beyond that and realise that the emotionally charged TEENAGED characters are all jumping to conclusions no matter how compelling I make the evidences seem.

You can see why people have dropped my story? Right… I have a really good track record as a fanfic author and I continuously work really hard to gain and maintain this credibility, so I'm not worried. I know my own skill, my own limitations and the lengths I go to cover every little aspect of what can happen in my story, down to the cultural and personal nuances of each character and environment. I'll keep working really hard for it and make sure I do the research thoroughly.

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Finally for the Guest Reviewer: I'm sorry that you are confronted by such harsh realities in my story and I'm sorry that you are disappointed in things in my story that didn't go the way you think it should as per the law or as per morals. I think if you could be more open-minded and see how the world works outside of what you think is right, I think you will gain more insight overall and be more understanding, sympathetic and empathetic without compromising your own values.

If I'm touching upon things that are controversial, confronting and people are provoked by it in a way that makes them think and re-evaluate themselves or the world they live in, or even just be confronted by a sensitive topic such as assault happening in schools, then I will see it as a success. If not, then that's absolutely fine, I just want to write a good story too. I hope that you learn that there is more to the world that is beyond your own thinking and one of those things is that justice and accountability for people who do wrong… don't always catch up to them, or at least it does when all the damage is already done and it's too late.

I like to think my story isn't just always about entertainment, nice fluffiness, romance, love and everything happening the way it should in a perfect and lawful world, but it's also something readers can learn about what I perceive as human nature and my own reflection of what I believe is part of the reality.

I also hope that readers can see that yes, I will write about the bitter things in life that are eye-opening and REAL, which I pride myself in. In saying that, I will always make sure to give the spot light to the love, care, friendship, romance, forgiveness, family values, excitement, youth, coming of age, adventure and triumph over hardship, and eventually justice that characters embrace in my story so that there is some re-assurance for readers who read my story that in the world good things don't always soften the bad things, but the bad things don't spoil the good things either and make them unimportant.

Signing-off

-TripWire-dono


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